


Colorford

by EllySketchit



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, Bullying, Character Death, Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fantastic Racism, Hair Color Racism, Heavy Angst, Isolation, Pregnancy, Pregnant Sex, Racism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 01:00:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 47
Words: 49,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17274137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllySketchit/pseuds/EllySketchit
Summary: This is a tragic love story  with an eventual happy ending (of sorts) based on Hair Color dominating a society.





	1. The Beach at Night

**Author's Note:**

> **James is the Head Color in Colorford, his folks having passed away when he was small. He lives alone, a young man in a huge mansion with few friends and a very controlling aunt and uncle who live across the way in a massive villa.**
> 
> **One night as he's fishing he spots a beautiful woman swimming in the ocean and is immediately captivated. James is timid, however. Will he ever be able to talk to her? What will come of all these midnight rendezvous? Will his aunt and uncle ever lay off?**

James sighed, glancing around the opulent furnishings in his bedroom. The Colorford mansion was as tasteless as all the Primary houses and though he'd tried to fix his room touches still showed through. Everything had to be "the best", the "most expensive" - even if it meant it clashed terribly. He got up from his bed, pushing the teal sheets carelessly down and not bothering to make anything neat. The maids took care of everything so he never worried. The young man was dressed in blue shorts that matched his hair and nothing else though his uncle sometimes forced a robe on him when he was visiting at night. He reached out a gold, beautifully tanned arm and groped about until he found his glasses on the nightstand. With these firmly in place he padded down the shiny wood floor to the closest bathroom to freshen up before he went out.

"Yeek!" The automatic lights didn't turn on and he thought he saw a bug on the floor. James hated bugs (truth be told he was afraid of almost everything) and for a few seconds he hovered between the doorway, pondering whether or not to go get book or something just in case he needed a weapon. He finally jumped inside and quickly snapped on the lights. Nothing... wait, there. Just a speck of dust on the pebbled floor. His aunt would freak if she knew the lazy Green maid they had for the upper section was letting dust bunnies float around. He shrugged somewhat sheepishly at his foolishness and stepped up to the mirror. Glasses off again, he splashed cool water on his face, dried with a soft towel from a holder nearby and began to shed his clothing. The pile of more common clothing he wore during his midnight sojourns to the ocean was hidden in the cabinets under the sink and he eagerly grabbed it and dressed as fast as he could. His aunt and uncle lived in the mansion across the way and they and all their servants would be asleep by now as well as his. Not that he was doing anything wrong because he wasn't. Yet they always wanted him to be accompanied by a bodyguard or something and James didn't like the rough Orange they'd hired for the job. The burly man was strong enough, sure, but he creeped him out. He just stared at him with those fiery eyes and he swore he had seen contempt in them more than once. He clicked the garage open and was soon cruising in his convertible towards the peaceful sanctity of the beach nearby. He had bait in a bucket next to him and a high-class fishing pole he'd gotten for his birthday several months before ready.

James loved fishing.

His aunt and uncle hated his hobby - they said it was "common" and he should take up music or something instead. But he couldn't be happy without tasting the tang of salt water and all the music he needed was the crashing of the waves as they hit the shoreline. When they saw that they realized they'd better at least give in to one of his needs and had gotten him the best of everything. Nothing but the most expensive for the head of the Colorford family, of course. He sometimes wished his mom and dad were still around. He didn't like all the responsibility of being the head Color of the town. He kept his mind focused on driving through all this melancholy reverie and was soon pulling up to the sandy shores he loved. He neatly maneuvered the car into a parking space and gathered up his equipment, shivering a little at the darkness. The long, roiling combers on the beach beckoned to him despite his fear and he dashed out happily through the sand, grinning like a fool with the wind blowing his short hair about his face. Blue strands from his parted hair tickled his forehead and he laughed softly as he set up his chair on the strand. He had baited his hook and was about to make a cast when he heard the splash near the rocks along the south side. He jerked upright in terror, fearing the worst.

That's when James saw her for the first time.

"Oh..." His blue eyes widened, mouth parted in shock. In his bemused and half-afraid state he wondered if it was a mermaid sporting about in the waves before him. He shook his head to clear it, fishing pole forgotten on the ground next to him. The female had apparently jumped from the rocks into the clear blue water below and was swimming strongly, confidently. The moon gave just enough pale light for James to be able to make out that it was a girl, his age, dressed in a one-piece bathing suit. Her short-cropped hair clung wetly to her cherubic little face. He saw it was blue, just like his, and grew even more interested. Primaries couldn't afford getting their Colors mixed with commons. It just wasn't something that happened, not now, anyway. There weren't enough Reds, Blues and Yellows anymore due to families long ago splitting up and marrying one another. So it was that he sighed with relief that the heart-stoppingly beautiful woman was Blue.

She glanced up at one point and seemed to see him but she said nothing. The tan young man swallowed hard and didn't move, frightened for a different reason now and hoping she wouldn't leave because he was watching. He needn't have worried. After only the briefest of looks she plunged back into the water again and was down there so long he swore she had to have gills! Too cowardly to speak to her but too enthralled to leave he sat and watched as she dove again and again. She appeared to be gathering something from the seafloor and placing it in a sack she had looped to one of the nearby rocks.

He would have watched much longer but his wrist beeped after several hours, reminding him that he'd better get home and get into bed before the servants started stirring. When he got up to leave he imagined he heard light laughter from behind and his heart started to beat faster. He wondered if she would be back again tomorrow night.

He knew he would.


	2. The Mermaid's Gift

James lay on the beach towel and waited for his mermaid, as he'd come to think of her, to show up. They had been meeting silently together for weeks now at his favorite beach. He never even bothered to fish anymore. He just sat back and watched her graceful form pull and dive and stretch as she gathered things from the ocean's never-ending bounty. Sometimes she grinned impishly at him before her next dive but she always stayed away. And he never spoke to her or tried to get closer.

As he rested, uneasily glancing about now and then as was his custom, he noticed footprints on the wet sand close by the rippling waters and a large shell of some sort placed carefully facing him. He blinked and adjusted his glasses, thinking he was seeing things. But no, there was a line drawn in the damp ground leading him on. He stepped carefully forward and picked it up, wondering. It was a conch, beautifully polished on the inside and shining with natural color. The shell was larger than both of his hands put together and he marveled at its size. No doubt it a gift, either: there was a small card inside that had miraculously avoided soaking up any moisture. As he pulled it out he saw it was thinly coated with plastic and the writing was in waterproof marker. Blue, of course.

" _To my Midnight Admirer_ " it read in clean, flowing calligraphic style that was almost as pretty as the shell itself. " _Thank you for sharing these nights with me._ " He caught his breath and realized he was standing dumbly by the shoreline with his mouth foolishly agape. James darted furtively back to the towel and put the note carefully away in a pocket of his shorts. He lay admiring the conch, glancing up now and then to see if she had arrived.

"Maybe this means she won't be back anymore," he gasped, brow furrowing with worry. No, that couldn't happen. He'd never cared about any of the other like-colored women in town, hadn't cared for anyone, really. Now this strange lady he didn't know and hadn't even spoken to had him counting the hours all day until he could see her again. He even dreamed of her at night, wild fantasies he thought he'd given up after he'd matured past puberty. His aunt and uncle thought he'd found someone in town and they had begun pressing him mercilessly to let them know who the lucky Blue was. They didn't know he was too scared to even speak to her!

He waited even after his watch told him it was two hours past the time when he normally left the beach, hoping against hope that he was wrong. But she never showed up. Tears of disappointment pricking his dark blue eyes, he picked up his towel and the precious shell and left the sandy shore, picking his way disconsolately through the dunes to his car. Stupid, stupid fool! He hadn't thought she would stop coming to the beach to swim. James sighed deeply as he closed the door and buckled himself in. He looked at his pathetic face in the mirror and grinned wearily at his reflection.

"My fault," he admitted. "It's all my fault. I'm just chickenshit." The young man drove slowly back to the Colorford mansion, his thoughts brooding. He knew he was a coward - he'd tried to get over his fears and doubts when he was little but all the Blues had that common trait. Reds were aggressive, Yellows were a little ...eccentric, for want of a nicer word and Blues were scared of almost everything. That was why she hadn't approached him, either, he figured. It was easier to leave a note than go up to someone and talk to them. He parked in the garage and blinked as he turned the lights off. "Oh, shit!"

He could do the same thing!

He dug in his pocket and flipped the card over. There was room on the back and though he didn't want to get rid of the only sample of her writing he had, he knew if he didn't do it right away he'd lose his nerve over even this small thing. He bent over and dug around in his tackle box until he found the waterproof marker he kept there. He quickly added a simple line in his own artistically cursive writing, begging her to come again so they could talk. When it was done he noticed some lights on in the house but he couldn't stop now - he had to drive back and place it where she might find it. He opened the garage again and eased the car out, driving as quickly as he dared back to the shore. Once there he flung his door open and heedless of danger for once in his life ran desperately down to where he'd found the conch. There were rocks there to the right, loose ones in the little natural pier that ran down to the ocean and he picked one up and placed it on top of the note so it wouldn't blow away. James prudently made sure the rock was far away from the tide line as well. He stood back, the wind blowing his hair about his golden features and tugging gently at his loose shorts. The plain silver necklace he wore shone in the pre-morning light as he made his way back to his convertible.

He'd done what he could. If she found it the rest was up to her.


	3. He's in Love

"No, Aunt Lorrie," he groaned, wincing. "I'm not being reckless." James Colorford had been found out. Of course his aunt and uncle knew he went fishing but they hadn't known when. One of the maids had woken up and seen him leave last night and had, of course, ran to tattle. His relatives rewarded vigilance. She'd probably been given extra pay, he thought sourly, and though he could fire her he'd never know which one of the lower colors it had been that had told on him. In a house this big there were too many for him to keep track of.

"But leaving the house at midnight! You could be robbed!" She wailed, wringing her plump, doughy hands together in anguish. That this had occurred to James she didn't seem to realize even when he told her he didn't bring any money with him - why should he? He was just fishing. She paced the kitchens, sighing and sobbing and bringing up one horrible scenario after another. James' shoulders finally sagged in defeat and he got up to get some juice from the fridge.

"Why can't you go with that nice strong Orange boy I hired?"

"Wha?!" James nearly spit his juice out on the counter top. "Aunt Lorrie, it's not like I can't take care of myself for an hour or two alone!"

"You're the heir of all this land and town," she told him sternly. She reminded him of this fact at least twice an hour when she was with him. It grew tiring after the first year and his folks had been dead for ten. He was an adult by Colorford standards, twenty was old enough to make his own decisions yet they never left him alone. He shook his head and pushed his glasses farther up his nose.

"I need some time alone," he stressed. He saw her raise an eyebrow and blushed suddenly. He saw what was in her tired blue eyes and opened his mouth to protest even as she squealed with delight.

"You found a girl, haven't you Jamie!"

_God he hated when she called him that._

"What's that, Lady Colorford?" The one Green upstairs maid had wandered in with a vase in one hand and freshly cut flowers in the other.

"I think James has found a girl at last, Bea," Lorrie gushed. James turned his back on them and tried to make himself invisible. Maybe if he thought really hard, it would work...

"Oh, my Lady! That's wonderful!" Beatrice was allowed to speak rather familiarly with the household because she was a pure Green, bred from one of the best Blue families and a Yellow of the highest quality descent. A pure mix, rather than generations down the line in other words and better in his aunt and uncle's eyes than the "other commoners".

"Cut it out," he hissed. "I - I'm just fishing."

"Sure you are, love." Lorrie winked at Bea and the girl giggled faintly. James scowled, afraid that he'd be watched more closely and wouldn't be able to see his mermaid at night. Really, she was all that kept him from going insane with all this "family" business. His uncle was teaching him how to run the town so he could be gradually infiltrated into the political arena and run Colorford by himself. He was a natural born schmoozer yet couldn't stand doing it. The incessant chatter of the Yellows, fearful notions of the Blues and angry complaints of the Reds during the day in the Town Center drove him nearly crazy. He fervently prayed his lovely swimmer had found the note he'd left and would come back tonight. His aunt had been talking but he'd tuned her out again. Something caught his ear, though.

"...what?"

"Tell me what family she's from, at least?"

"Aunt Lorrie!"

"Oh, James." She rolled her eyes dramatically. "I'll find out eventually..."

And she was probably right. But not before he found out who she was! He excused himself and leaped out of the room, dashing for his car. The strong sunlight made him squint and he threw up a hand in front of his face to shade his eyes as he ran towards the garage. It was good to be in the peaceful silence of his car but not so great to get to work that day. He knew his aunt would have blabbed and he was right. As he stepped inside the ornate town center, adjusting his tie and fussing with the darn thing - he hated wearing it -- he saw one of the Reds come pushing through towards him and quailed inwardly.

"All the talk is about you today, young Colorford!" Hilda Redfield blared loudly, grasping his hand and shaking it. She wore her usual frown on her pale features and her glaring red hair was adorned with a pink flower, the soft, feminine touch belying her actual nature. She clouted him on the shoulder, nearly knocking him into a passing Yellow.

"Sorry," he apologized lamely. "Hilda, what's this? Did my aunt talk to you?"

"Of course she did!" Hilda scowled at him. "Found a nice lady Blue, I was told! Good thing! We were all worried you wouldn't seed the line!" James turned as red as her hair and turned to flee but was stopped by his uncle who had snuck up on him from behind.

"Hilda, you're frightening the boy."

"Damn Blues're all afraid of their own shadows anyway. Colorfords always had the most spine, but still..."

"We can talk about it later. Right now we've got business to attend to, remember?"

"Thanks, uncle John," James husked as the bigger man led him to the main table. John Colorford winked at his nephew but said nothing and the rest of the work day passed in a much smoother fashion.


	4. None of this Lord Stuff

He couldn't wait to go fishing.

She came to him that night, stepped out of the frothing waves and onto the sands for the first time stepping with a pale foot and walking slowly towards the blanket he lay on. He trembled at her approach but she stopped several feet away and looked down as if confused. He jumped to his feet and stood on the soft cloth.

"You got my note," he ventured quietly, the words whipping away in the salty breeze.

"You got mine." Her voice was low and thrilling, almost a purr. But she stayed where she was as if more nervous than he, hardly daring to look up at him. The moonlight was dim tonight, hidden beneath scudding clouds overhead. Thunderstorms tomorrow - and on his day off, no less. In the darkness of this night he saw just as much of her as he normally did far away on the waves and he drew nearer, his curiosity making him bold. She backed away when he came with a foot and he cocked his head, puzzled.

"What's wrong?"

"You - I know who you are," she said miserably. "I didn't at first, but then, your note..." His signature was on all official papers of the town and she must have recognized his handwriting. He was still trying to figure out why that bothered her when by chance one of the clouds that hid the moon slipped by and a soft glow illuminated her face before him. She was was pale, much lighter than his own golden skin. Her lips were full and looked soft and extremely kissable, he noted absently. What he was drawn to right away, however, was her hair. It was short and close cropped, shaved around the sides. Two long locks fell down in front of her ears to the bottoms of her plump cheeks. They swayed in the warm ocean wind, brushing her pale skin with feathery caresses. They were purple, a deep, rich color like her eyes. James blinked. It was true that he'd never gotten a good look at her and the moonlight leached away all color, making the soft hair appear blue when it really hadn't been. He stood there, his mind racing and trying to adjust to this sudden discovery. He'd never thought of this scenario.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. Then she grimaced lightly and added, "my Lord." It was the required form of address when greeting a Primary and James wasn't just any but the head of them all! He shook his head.

"No," he murmured.

"Yes, I am. I should have found out who you were before..." She choked on what she was going to say, waving her hand around helplessly. "But nothing happened, so I guess it's okay, right?"

"No, I mean, I'm just James." He looked defiantly up at her. "None of this 'Lord' stuff."

"I can't!" She raised a hand to her mouth in maidenly confusion. It wasn't punishable by law but you could get in trouble if anyone else heard you addressing a higher color by name alone. The Primaries ran all the top businesses and industry. You'd be far pressed to find a job or anyone that would sell you food if you pissed them off.

"You have to if I say, right?" He grinned impudently at her. "Besides, you haven't told me your name yet." He felt exhilarated and more alive than he had for a long, long time. He stepped forward and took her hand gently in his.

"My Lord - James -- I..." She stammered and blushed. It was clear she was nervous and maybe afraid of his status so he mentally spat on his hands and got to work. He'd never liked being the top Color. Schmoozing and mingling with the other Primaries had always been boring but it came in good stead now. He neatly turned a dozen compliments and flattered her until she became dazed. Then he gently asked her name again.

"That's all I want for now," he suggested. "Just your name." _We can go farther after that, maybe..._

"Elly," she said lightly. "Elly Sketchit."

"Sketchit." He mulled the name over, thinking of the town's notaries and heads of families he'd had to memorize. If he remembered correctly, the Sketchits were an artistic family that lived in the mountain pass by a clear little waterfall spring. He asked again and she confirmed it, adding that her parents had moved someplace far away and she was alone in the big house.

"It gets lonely," she added with another blush. James still hadn't relinquished her hand and she didn't quite know what to make of him. She had a sudden worry that he might see her as a cheap fling. It was acceptable to take a lower-class person as a mistress and her smile faltered. That had to be his intent. He surely couldn't be thinking anything else. "We can't see each other, though," she added in a rush. "I don't want to be your plaything and we can't be anything else. It's best we stopped this whatever-it-is right now."

"I called you my mermaid, you know that?" James had the most alluring blue eyes and she was helpless when he looked at her that way. "You made the days go by so fast." He pulled gently on the hand he held and she toddled forward a step so she was standing closer to him.

"Master _Colorford_ ," she gasped in asperity.

"I don't care. Don't you get it? I don't care if you're not Blue. I still want to see you every night."

"But..." She couldn't believe her ears.

"This is the first time I haven't been scared all day and miserable," he declared with some heat. "I just want to see you. Is that bad?"

"But if anyone sees us we'll both be in trouble."

"Well." He paused and looked around at the beach, a soft smile touching his lips. "We're not doing anything wrong. Just talking." He let go of her hand as if to verify that fact.

"I guess..."

"Except I think we should change things up now and then," he said seriously. "Maybe meet someplace different. Tomorrow night?"


	5. Jealousy

They met the next night at another beach.

This one was a popular resort area during the day but completely abandoned at this late hour. James was shivering with fear as he got out of his car to walk across the dunes to the boardwalk. It was pitch dark except for the tiny beam of his flashlight and he started praying that it wouldn't fail and leave him in the blackness. As he stepped over the first rise of dry grass and accumulated sand, though, he saw the welcome flash of another light in the darkness. A smile tugged the corners of his mouth and he strode faster towards it. It was Elly standing there with the wind whipping her purple hair against her cheeks. She was tightly clutching a flash light shaped like a fish against her chest and wore a simple lavender shirt with jeans and sandals. James was dressed much the same except his top was a pale blue, of course.

"It's going to rain, you know," she said after they had greeted each other.

"I know." The wind was picking up even more as they spoke and a crash of sudden thunder caused him to jump high in the air. He came back down cowering, glancing up at the sky as if afraid to be struck down any moment. "We need to get inside!" He hissed urgently. Elly was watching him with a curious mixture of amusement and affection. She pursed her lips, thinking, but when another rumble sounded and he cringed she shook her head in defeat.

"All right." Taking the trembling Blue by the hand she led him across the creaking wooden planks in another direction than where his car was parked. He walked carefully, placing his feet almost gingerly down in case one should break. "I know where we can wait it out."

"Where are we going?" He gripped her hand tightly in his, curling his fingers about her own. It was pleasant in a way, and she didn't complain.

"There," she pointed somewhat at an angle from where they'd been walking. A row of small squat buildings were outlined against the sky the next time lightning flashed. James' blue eyes widened.

"Are they empty?"

"It's where I sell stuff during the day." She chuckled as they walked up to the building. "If it wasn't for all the crap I found while diving..." Elly paused, then gently patted his shoulder. "I need my hands for this, M- um, James."

"What? Oh, sorry." He sheepishly released her palm and stuffed his hands in his pockets while she dug around in her own for a key. When she pushed open the door he again flinched at the dark but it was only a second before she'd flicked a light switch.The interior of the small shop was lit with small unadorned globes that hung from the ceiling and cast a soft glow over everything. There were many shelves along the walls and a glass counter with a couple of chairs behind it. James slowly took in everything, his eyes gleaming with wonder. Elly was an artist that worked not only with pencil or paints but with items. Shells like the one she had given him lined the tables and counters, polished to a high gleam and adorned with glass work, beading and more. There were all sorts of sea-related items made into jewelry, small lamps, anything he could think of and several he couldn't.

"Here, have a chair." She grinned and pushed one towards him. He absently sat, eyes still busy.

"It's just stuff I make into crafts," the purple-haired woman shrugged everything off but he shook his head.

"It's all so beautiful."

"Yeah, but you like the ocean." Elly sighed. "The only reason I stay in that nice house my folks left me is because," she began ticking things off on her fingers, "one, it's paid for, and two, sometimes Primaries give me money to make jewelry for their wives and stuff." She looked him directly in the eyes and he shivered again, this time for a different reason. His throat seemed to dry up and he couldn't speak at first.

"What would happen if they didn't...?"

"Buy from me anymore?"

"Yeah."

"I'd have to get a few more jobs. Maybe have someone move in with me." She paused, her open face clouding over momentarily. "Last winter I had to do that. There's little business in the winter, you know, and I don't have a lot of other skills besides this useless one." James shifted on his chair. The seat was fine enough, but the subject matter was making him more than a little uncomfortable.

"You got a girlfriend to move in with you, though?"

"I don't have any girlfriends," Elly said flatly. Her eyes hardened and she looked off to the side. She sounded furious, he realized, and he wanted to make it better. He reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder. "What? The house is big enough. I hated doing it but I didn't have a choice. Taxes are harsh for little people like me, you know."

"Who was it?"

"You wouldn't know."

"Who was it?" He frowned and got up to step in front of her. This time he placed both hands on her shoulders and rubbed gently. "Did he behave properly?"

"You're actually _jealous_." James looked taken aback. He blinked when she went on, "This means you _are_ interested in me!"

"I ... well, things like shouldn't happen!" His cheeks burned and he hoped he didn't look as foolish as he felt.

"You aristocrats need to mingle with the people more," she murmured, relaxing under his massage despite herself. "It happens all the time."

"Who ..."

"If you're going to harp on it all night, it was Mark Fuschi, Milord. And he was all right, I guess." She made a face. "See? You don't know who he is."

"The name sounds familiar." He scowled at her. "And don't call me 'Milord'."

"Yes, Milord." Elly stuck her tongue out at him. "He's another Purple that works the boardwalk," she admitted with another grimace. "Everyone thought we were a couple but I told him it was only rental space for the winter. He agreed since he can afford an apartment during the summer."

The talk turned to more pleasant things after that but James struggled with his feelings for the rest of the night. He hadn't known things were that bad in town and he didn't want Elly to ever have someone in her house again. Especially another man. That burned in his chest and though he'd sidestepped the question of his jealousy he knew he'd look up the Fuschi name tomorrow in the Town records.


	6. The Confession

It was absolutely _killing_ Lorrie Colorford that she didn't know who her nephew was seeing every night. She had had her hopes on a young Blue whose line was as unblemished and lovely as their own, but the lady had stared at her blankly when she'd approached her on the subject. Clearly it wasn't her. And it wasn't any of the others she had questioned, either!

Lorrie clucked her tongue and raised her hands to the tumbled mass of coiled plaits on top of her head, fidgeting with the stupendous hairdo her stylist had constructed earlier that morning. The blue locks shone brilliantly in the light of the bathroom. There was another thing: true Primary families had colors that did not fade over time. All the Blues that were left were slightly questionable in her opinion as the older members of the families all had duller hair colors. She hoped James wouldn't have had such a terrible judgment to fall for one of those types. It just wouldn't do. She walked down the stairs of the large estate she owned with her husband and saw the young man sitting in the parlor sipping a cup of tea - maybe, she thought, but with him it was liable to be cappuccino or plain coffee as much as the delightful brew the refined tea leaves they had shipped from other countries made. Lorrie sighed. Would they ever make a true Blue gentleman out of this boy? His parents would have wanted it, she was certain.

"Hi aunt Lorrie," he grinned when she stepped into the room. "Did Filly tell you I was here?"

"Mother!" Ophelia Colorford shook her head at her mother. "James and I were talking privately." She was younger than him by five years and had taken to asserting her own "authority" lately. Lorrie shook her head at her willful teenager.

"I didn't even know you were there, Ophelia," she said mildly.

"Awwww." She threw herself back down into the huge divan she'd been sprawled on. Lorrie winced.

"Don't flop, dear. Well-bred Blue ladies don't flop."

"Yes, mum." She made a face and James hid a smile with a quick gulp from his cup.

"I'll leave you two alone then, since I did really barge in." Lorrie wandered off to the upstairs library. She knew a good book she could read in the gardens outside. It would be a nice relaxing afternoon, maybe she'd forget about her problems with that boy for awhile.

"Is she gone?" James snickered when Filly glared suspiciously up the stairwell. His cousin flounced back with a toss of her long blue hair.

"Yeah, she's probably going to the gardens. She spends a ton of time there now."

"She's there as often as you go to the stables!"

"Or you leave your house at night." The young girl giggled when James blushed. "Everyone's talking about it. Why don't you just bring her over or something?" She frowned, lower lip pouting softly out when his face clouded over.

"I can't, Filly."

"She's one of those dull Blues, isn't she?" She rolled her eyes. "Mum would freak, I totally understand." James eyed his flighty little cousin narrowly. He set his mug down on the coffee table and looked around.

"Listen, Filly, we're closer than anyone else, right?"

"Duh." She poked at a piece of fruit on the table.

"I'm serious." James tapped on the glass top table and she looked up, surprised at the steel in his voice. "I don't know what to do. Maybe you can help."

"Okay." She leaned back and crossed her legs. Despite her somewhat quirky nature (or perhaps because of it) he'd always thought Ophelia had the most sense of any member of the family. And he'd trusted her with secrets before that had never been spilled so he knew she was worthy of something of this nature. He cleared his throat.

"The servants are all gone, right?"

"You know me," she smirked and held up a little cell phone. Before they had begun talking she'd rung them all and sent them off on several fool's missions in the city. Several of the maids were picking up clothing for her and the chef was at the local grocery store gathering exotic fruits she had expressed a desire to taste. James took his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose, laughing gently.

"I should've known," he chuckled.

"So, spill...what is it? Is it about the girl?"

"Yeah." He looked confused. "I can't stop thinking about her, Filly. I see her every night but it's not enough. I want to buy her things, take her places, show her everything... all sorts of stuff. Is that what love is like?"

"Everything?" His cousin asked slyly.

"Ophelia!" He twitched, his face darkening further.

"Sorry. I couldn't resist." She paused and began fingering the silky fabric of her blouse. "I mean, I had a crush on this guy once and wanted to be with him a lot but when we'd gone out a few times I got bored of it. I guess if you haven't it means you might be in love, right?"

"I don't know," he groaned. "I don't know anything. Just that I can't be without her."

"Sounds like love, silly."

"But..."

"She's not Blue, is she." Filly looked down at her fingernails and spoke in a quiet voice. She rushed on, "I'm sorry I mentioned it."

"No, you're right," he admitted in as low a voice.

"Oh, James, holy shit." Filly's dark blue eyes were huge as she realized what a mess he'd gotten himself into. "What're you going to do?"

"I don't know," he said miserably. "I'm happy and excited half the day and the rest nervous as hell. It's not like it won't come out sooner or later. I'd be stupid not to see that."

"You'd better start thinking more seriously about it, James." Filly's usually cheerful demeanor had dropped a notch. "It's gonna cause trouble."

"I have been. I just don't know what to do." He looked at her helplessly. "I really don't."

"I'd like to, Mark, but I can't."

"Do you have a date?" The purple-haired young man's eyes widened. "Is that why you're always begging off early at your shop?" Elly grimaced a little. The man had guessed right but she didn't want to seem inclined to agree. He shouldn't know she was seeing James every night. No one could. It was a tricky situation.

"I'm going someplace with a friend that's not from the area, that's all." Perhaps a half-truth would settle instead of a lie. Elly was clever enough to realize a flat-out lie would put him on his guard. He wasn't slow.

"A boy friend?" Mark Fuschi's light lavender eyes twinkled in merriment. "We spent enough time together last winter for me to know something big's happening in your life."

"Please don't push, okay?" She looked so upset that he backed off, hands in the air.

"Okay, awright. Sheesh, I didn't mean to make you upset or anything." He paused, scrubbed a hand over his cheek reflectively. He hadn't shaved that morning and his stubble was starting to itch. Mark sighed lustily as a Green lady walked by in short shorts and grinned at her when the woman turned around to raise an eyebrow at him. Elly rolled her eyes and ducked behind her counter to lock the cashbox and get her purse.

"You're the world's biggest player, kid."

"I'm not a kid," he growled playfully as she brushed past him at the door. He stepped aside when she locked up and shrugged. "All right, no more poking. At least tell me if you had fun tomorrow."

"Can do." Elly stretched and peered up at the pink and purple stain across the clouds from the setting sun. When she glanced back Mark was hurrying after the Green across the boards, talking animatedly. She shook her head and walked to her little beat up car, tossing her purse inside and sliding into the seat. James had wanted to meet at her place this evening for the first time and she was slightly nervous about it. He assured her he could park his car at the beach where they'd first met and if she picked him up it would be fine but she still worried.


	7. Not Hungry

James sighed as he drove to the beach. He'd started paying attention to the number of lights in the house when he left, checking his rear view mirror more often on the road and things like that. He didn't want to be followed and he thought by now after several weeks his aunt was curious enough to try something foolish. He'd thought about the situation long and hard after his talk with Filly and decided he wanted to take the step to have Elly as his girl. But he was so deadly frightened of what he didn't know! He'd never even kissed a girl and now that he wanted to he grew cold and clammy whenever he tried to get closer to her. After several failed attempts he was bringing a few bottles of champagne with him for courage. That's why he'd wanted to go to her home instead.

He felt too out in the open even in her shop.

"There," he whimpered as he pulled up to the dark parking lot. One of the street lights had broken and the moon was a tiny sliver, not enough to cast light on the surrounding area. But there was another, smaller car out here and he recognized it as her own.

"Hi," she grinned when she saw how large his blue eyes were. Elly knew he was afraid most of the time and didn't judge him for it. She motioned him at the door and he locked his and almost leaped inside the relative safety of her tiny car. "Nice outfit," she murmured as she pulled out of the lot and began driving up the long road that led to the mountains.

"I wanted to, uh, look nice. We've never been to your place before." James tugged on his shirt lapels to straighten them. The soft weave was always furling no matter how often Bea ironed them for him. He wore brushed corduroy pants as well in a tan color that went well with the dark blue top. Filly had suggested he unbutton it a bit and let his chest show through. He was extremely aware of the cool air from the partially lowered windows hitting his bare skin as it ruffled the cloth.

"You don't have to worry about that," Elly laughed softly. Her own purple hair blew about her face, framing the pale features and softening her expression.

"I kind of brought something to drink, too. If that's okay."

"I saw you had something at your feet." She pulled into the driveway and into the garage when it opened. James barely noticed what the house looked like since he was stressing so much over being inside it. He got out and carefully picked the bottles up. "Okay, it's this way up some stairs." She held an arm out and steadied him when he stumbled. James grinned gratefully at her.

"Sorry. I didn't see that there."

"It's a little messy in the garage," Elly agreed. She kicked the coiled garden hose out of his way. Once they had walked up the stairs they were in her kitchen. To the right was a bathroom, she informed him, in case he needed to use it during his visit. The left was the dining room that led to the living room and back of the house. There was a large glass door that the patio that faced and he immediately saw why: a sparkling waterfall cascaded down the mountain slope beyond into a clear blue pool. They sat on the couch with glasses of the bubbling drink and watched the backyard lights play on the rippling water.

And they talked.

Just talked.

"I wonder what he's eating," she sighed to herself as she popped the top on her foam container of noodles the next day. Steam came pouring out and the smell was usually enough to cause her stomach to rumble but now she was thinking of something else. Elly had found herself thinking of the blue-haired aristocrat both during the day and night. She couldn't fool herself; she knew why.

It was enough to put you off food, being in love. The pale young woman sighed and pushed the cup far away from her on the counter. She hadn't fully admitted it to herself yet because she understood the problems that would arise.

James was, in fact, lunching on thinly-sliced venison with exotic cheeses and fruits. His aunt and uncle were visiting him as they did every weekend. He liked the meal but he had started to feel strange when he ate. It had started the one night when he'd visited Elly and he'd caught a glimpse of her freezer when she went to get ice for the champagne he'd brought. He'd seen some frozen food in there. A bag or two of vegetables it seemed. Worried, he'd peeked in her fridge when she'd gone to the bathroom and it had been almost empty as well. It wasn't that he felt guilty eating this expensive food - because he didn't -- but knowing what he did it made him want to share things with her more than ever. He wondered if she'd ever eaten lobster or ...

"James Johnathan Colorford! I swear, if you don't pay attention to your surroundings more you're apt to come ablaze one day!" James jerked upright, eyes wide as he snatched his arm away from the lit candles on the table. His aunt insisted on lighting the tapers when they ate. He never really messed with them himself.

"Sorry, Aunt Lorrie," he sighed.

"You weren't burned? You almost knocked the candelabra right over," Lorrie fretted. She saw him shake his head and show her his bare arm. Smiling nervously she nodded. "But you'll have to start being more careful!"

"I know." He winced and pushed his glasses up his nose. "I don't want to get hurt, believe me. I was just..." He trailed off and his uncle laughed knowingly.

"You don't have to apologize, James," he chuckled, carefully selecting another piece of melon from the platter Bea had brought in. He placed a hand on his wife's arm. "Every young man goes through this if he's lucky, Lor. Falling in love, getting absent-minded because you're thinking of the special girl. All that." He grinned through a faceful of beard when James' wide blue eyes showed his response was completely unexpected.

"Uh!"

"I know it's hard to believe but we were young once, too," he winked at his nephew. James coughed, quickly gathering the fine linen napkin he'd had folded on his knee in front of him so his aunt wouldn't see his expression.

"Excuse me," he said weakly. Filly chuckled at him from across the table and he groaned. "No talking about that, please," he pleaded. "You promised, Aunt Lorrie!"

"But it's not right you keep on seeing her without us ever knowing who she is," Lorrie frowned. "We just want to meet her!" She picked at her own napkin worriedly.

"Mum, you know James." Filly winked at her cousin. "He just needs time, that's all. Quit bothering him about it. You're probably pushing him off more each time you do, you know." She nibbled on a piece of apple spread with brie, absently tucking her long blue hair away from her face as she ate. Strands were coming down out of her loosely done bun since she had bolted inside for lunch after an afternoon of riding. The teenager was obviously just as eager to be right back outside - her favorite mare was being trained for show jumping and she was having a lot of fun.

"Oh, I don't mean to hurry you, dear," the older woman told him sincerely. "I'm just so happy you found someone at last!"

"Lorrie," John reminded her, "Just because he's found a nice lady doesn't mean it's the perfect one. He hasn't proposed yet or anything..." He paused and glanced over at James, who had turned beet-red with embarrassment and worse shock than before. He gargled faintly, shaking his head. "See? Just take it easy. He'll bring her over to meet us when he feels it's time."

Needless to say James didn't eat much after that conversation. He did, however, think to ask Bea to put some of the leftovers in an airtight, disposable container so he could eat them later as a snack when he was "out fishing". Maybe he could share some of his life with her, little by little. Maybe they would be accepted if he did it slowly. He closed his eyes, seated at the table long after everyone had left, hoping things would work out.


	8. Friendly Protection

She was sick.

It was nothing too much - a touch of some virus that had been going around, she was sure -- but Elly was in very bad shape. She worried for some time about James but had no way to send a message to him. They didn't call or contact one another on the computer for fear of being traced or anything. He simply came over to a place they agreed upon the last time they'd met. This wouldn't be a problem except tonight it was her place and Mark had insisted coming over himself when he saw how ill she was. Her car was still at the Boardwalk; he had closed his stall when she arrived late that afternoon and immediately ushered her into his, driving her home. He frowned at her condition and didn't listen to her commands to leave, ignoring her when she became insistent. Even her suggestions that his current girlfriend would be furious to hear he'd spent the day at another woman's house were shrugged off.

"You can't even walk, girl! No way I'm leaving you. And relax, she'll understand." He sighed bitterly. "Besides, you don't have insurance do you? No, of course not..." Mark's purple hair was dominant-red and he often showed that side of his nature by bossing others around. He invited himself to stay and made her soup, brought her drinks of water and juice. Elly worried, laying back weakly on her bed with her hair straggled against the pillow and her face flushed with fever. The drapes were closed in the room but she could tell it was dark, she had apparently spent most of the day in a complete daze.

"Mark," she croaked feebly.

"Just a minute, gotta see who this is," his voice floated through the bedroom door. He took hold of the handle and closed it firmly, giving her privacy since she was sick. Elly threw back the sheets in a panic, her heart thumping and her throat dry. She got to her feet too fast and the combination of being so dreadfully tired mixed with the congestion she was suffering caused her to flop immediately backwards. She couldn't get up that quickly. And anyway by the sound of things she didn't have to. It was too late. She lay back and listened, curious now that the moment of fear had passed. James sounded worried. Mark was stoically polite but there was an undercurrent of hostility running through his tone. True, he didn't like the aristocracy but what was going on? Their voices grew louder and she wished she could hear what they were saying but the closed door muffled the sounds. There was a thump and what sounded suspiciously like a yelp with a door slamming that ended the discussion. She waited with beating heart, hoping everything was all right.

_James, please let it be James..._

The door opened and she saw the larger form of Mark outlined in golden light from the hall, not the more slender one she had wished for. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard.

"Where is he?" She asked as quietly as she could. Mark walked over to the bedside and frowned down at her.

"Gone. I chased him off."

"You shouldn't have done that!"

"Just because he's the magistrate of the town doesn't make him less chickenshit," he said grimly. "He's still a Blue. I threatened him and he ran like I knew he would." Elly's heart sank. She'd heard the soft cry and the door closing hard but she had hoped for more from James. She took a deep breath, her chest wheezing slightly. It hurt more than she thought it would but it didn't feel like a betrayal. Mark was pretty terrifying when he'd worked himself up like he had now. And a fight would bring their "relationship" out in the open faster if James had gotten hurt. She didn't want him hurt, either...

"You could get in trouble," she said wearily. "You're not supposed to threaten any of the Primaries and he's the top one!"

"Why?" For once the edge had left Mark's voice and he sounded baffled. It quickly reverted when he continued, dripping acid word for word. "Why was he here? For charity? Or because he has a lay on the side he visits at night?"

"Mark!" Elly's eyes teared up. She shook her head so vigorously she got dizzy and had to lay back on the pillow. "It's not like that!"

"What is it then? You going to tell me you're having a serious relationship by meeting at night and sneaking around?"

"We've never _done_ anything except talk!"

"It's just taking him longer, then."

"I thought you knew me," Elly gasped. It cut her to the quick that mark thought she was silly enough to be used - or worse, that she was allowing it to happen.

"I do," he grunted. "Enough to know you don't know what's happening. Listen," he held up a hand when she opened her mouth to protest. "Listen, the Primaries won't deal with it and neither will the lower class. They'll both think the same thing: some girl is leading him around by the pants. He'll be let off, you won't. You have to think of yourself." Mark shook his head and brushed the top of his hair back with his fingers. Elly was silent, staring down at her hands on the bed sheet in front of her. She sniffed once or twice but didn't reach for a tissue.

"You seem better and you have things to think about. I'll go. I need some sleep too..." He paused as he headed for the door. "Call me tomorrow when you get up. I'll drive you back to work if you're alright. You gotta get your car." The sick young woman listened to his heavy footfalls as he walked across the wooden flooring. She waited until the sound of his small car faded before she got up slowly and trudged to the front to lock it. She'd barely touched the knob before there was a timid knock on the panels. Elly let it swing open and looked sadly at the man standing there with his head hanging down.

"Are you okay?" James asked meekly. He still didn't raise his eyes to her face and stood biting his lip with his brows drawn over his downcast expression. His golden features seemed paler tonight as well. Elly stepped backwards and walked quietly to the living room couch. She needed to sit. She felt better physically than she had all day but she didn't know what to say to the trembling man standing at her door. She sat down heavily, knowing she was in her pajamas with her face sweaty and flushed, eyes and nose red, hair messy. She probably smelled, too. And the fact that she cared about this caused her to smile weakly. I must be better if I'm paying attention to stupid stuff like that.

"I'm sorry," his soft apology came from directly behind her. "I - I'm a coward. I know that. Do you want me to go?"

"Maybe you'd better," she said, meaning it and not at the same time. She was still tired and she needed more rest if she was going to be able to get up in the morning. Missing a day of work was one thing but two was unthinkable. If she could she'd have asked him to stay but she felt ashamed that he had run away and perhaps she was thinking over what Mark had said. In the end James sadly left the house without another word and Elly slept right where she was on the couch.

Being sick was never a good experience but she felt she was more than justified in saying this was one of the more terrible illnesses she'd had.


	9. A Real Relationship

He took the day off.

He needed to, for he couldn't stop shaking and thinking he had ruined something very special by his own cowardice the other night. James had held himself together for several days under the strain but he'd been terrified to go to her after he'd shown his true colors (the irony of this didn't escape him) and now he didn't know how to see her again.

Besides, that other man knew. His golden-skinned face flushed darker as he remembered the insults. James had balked when asked if he was the man she had been seeing every night, had fled when the other had told him to leave under threat of a fist shaken under his nose. The scathing words Mark had cast after him were horrible, horrible. He fell across his bed, digging his hands in the teal sheets and burying his face in his pillow. He'd taken his glasses off and the world was blurry, featureless. It seemed very appropriate because without her that's how it looked to him even with them on.

Would people really think that was why he was seeing her? To "get some" as the blunt spoken Purple had so ruthlessly called it? James choked, his eyes widening as he jolted upright to his knees on the bed.

_Did she think that now?_

"Oh no, no, no, no," he moaned frantically. Leaping to his feet he grabbed desperately for his glasses and shoved them impatiently on his nose. He tore off to the upstairs computer room in such haste he nearly knocked Bea over. She shrieked and jumped to one side, clutching a stack of fresh towels she'd gathered for his private bathroom. James barely registered her presence. He scraped the chair in front of his desk across the floor, fingers already tapping anxiously at the keyboard. He had to do something, it didn't matter what - if only he could cover his trail he could do something, he could ... fix things.

He hoped.

Elly was sitting blankly on her couch reading a book that night when the doorbell rang. She cried a little every day when James didn't show up but she was resolute: there was no way to go to him. He had to come to her if he wanted to. When the bell rang she literally threw the book down on the floor and rushed to answer it.

"Ms. Sketchit?" An older man with bluish-purple hair stood there with a clipboard in his hand. Her lavender eyes took in what sat behind him on the driveway with disbelief. "You have to sign for this..." She numbly wrote her name on the placard and he smiled at her.

"Th- thanks," she managed to stutter, still in amazement. He gestured at the giant arrangement.

"You want me to carry it in? It's kind of big." He chuckled, aware that 'kind of big' was a massive understatement. When she nodded he walked over and lifted it with a grunt, staggering under the weight. She had him place it on the dining room table and he bowed himself out with a twinkle in his eye. He didn't deliver things like that to a Purple every day. It must have taken her boyfriend a year to even save up enough. Maybe more.

As the delivery man walked back to his van, beaming with good feeling, Elly stared at her table and the giant sprays of flowers and food it contained. There was even a big stuffed fish with a comical smile peering out from a bunch of roses on the side. Bewildered, she plucked the card from the holder and opened it.

' _Turn around_.'

She knew what she would see before she did. She'd left the door open and standing there on her welcome mat was the young man that filled her thoughts, dressed in a dark blue silk shirt open at the front and flared jeans with obviously expensive boots stitched in matching colors. He held a single red rose in his hands and an apologetic expression so severe it was almost comical.

"I'm sorry," he managed to push past his tightly-closed throat. It came out in a barely audible husk but it added to his sincerity. His shoulders sagged. "I ... we need to talk, don't we?"

"I think so. The patio?" She suggested. He nodded and handed her the rose which she placed carefully with the others. Leading the way she opened the sliding glass door and waved him on through.

"I didn't mean to not come and see you for so long," he said as they sat on a rattan couch. The night was awash with the sounds of crickets and loons someplace nearby; the pond ran into a lake some distance away. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing at all."

"No, no, something's wrong. You're still upset." His short hair blew across his forehead, tickling him and causing him to slap at it, afraid it was a bug. Elly smiled as she watched him but the smile faded fast. She crossed her arms lightly and looked down at her bare feet.

"Some of the women at the boardwalk were talking about you," she told him quietly.

"Eh?"

"It's not uncommon," she went on. "Everyone notices what you do. And they told me..." She looked away from him but he heard how her voice broke on the last sentence.

"What? Told you what?" He fumbled for her shoulders, turning her about to face him.

"After that night I thought you didn't want to be with me," she told him, pain showing clearly in her eyes. "And they saw you with some other girl." His mouth dropped open. James reached out and gently stroked her cheek, his mind racing. He frowned, fingertips grazing her pale skin as he cocked his head and stared into her eyes.

" _You're_ my girl," he whispered. "Don't you get it? Don't you want to be?"

"But..." Elly choked, her lavender eyes huge and shiny with unshed tears. She couldn't rip her gaze from his, so tender as he stared at her. She reached up and covered part of his hand with her own, swallowing past the grief that wanted to pour out from her throat in great shuddering sobs. "I thought you were dating someone," she groaned.

"Yes. You," he hastily replied. "I'm not seeing anyone else. Hey," he added in a worried tone, his thumb wiping at the tears beginning to trickle down her face.

"They all said they'd seen you with someone..." James raised an eyebrow. Wait, hadn't he been to the horse show a few days ago?

"Long hair tied up in a messy bun? With these little pieces coming down out of it around her face?" He grinned when she nodded. "Your friends aren't very well-informed, then," he told her. "That's my cousin Filly."

"Cousin," she gasped, swaying a little.

"Cousin," he agreed. "So. You never answered."

"Answered?" She blinked in confusion and he took a deep breath, slipping an arm about her shoulders.

"Do you want to be my girl? Not anything improper," he added in a rush, flinching when she moved a little. She didn't slap him or anything like he'd imagined and he relaxed, his arm curling about her in a more comfortable fashion. "Not mistress. Not plaything. My only girl."

"Can we?" Her voice was low and trembling.

"Do you want me?" He asked softly in return. His face darkened when the words were out of his mouth. He hadn't meant it to sound that risque! She'll surely slap me now, he thought, closing his eyes and stiffening to brace himself for the shock. Instead he felt a feather-light brush on his lips and opened his eyes wide with a gasp.

She was kissing him.

Shaking harder than ever he tried to shift to adjust for his glasses but it just ended up with a soft bump of his nose against hers. James grinned sheepishly when they parted.

"S'okay," she murmured. He eyed her shyly and stammered out something like an apology but she shook her head, reached up and took his glasses off with one hand. James watched as she gravely placed them on a side table and then turned back to him. He backed up on the couch, spreading his legs slightly so she could lay in his lap. Acting completely without thought, on instinct that he swore he'd never have and guided by her soft touches on his face with her hands and mouth, he kissed a girl for the second time. And third. And more.

Their bodies fit sweetly together as they kissed again and again. James hummed passionately, little noises deep in his throat that became a steady panting when her hands gripped his shoulders and held him closer. She hugged him roughly as if afraid he'd be torn from her the moment she declared her feelings. He wondered at the passion, the heat. He'd never thought what they showed in the movies could be real never that he'd experience it. The rush of emotions released were so desperate neither could speak nor did they want to. Held in check a little less each day when they longed to be together, each night when they dared not act the way they truly wanted everything simply burst out at once. The waterfall behind them trickled down the stone mountainside to crash into the small pool beneath. Mist from the splashing liquid touched them now and then, cooling their bodies and causing them to shiver from more than just desire.

"Stop, we have to stop," Elly husked after some time. She straightened up, careful not to jab him in the groin with a knee and plucking nervously at her shirt to make sure it wasn't rising up too far. He let out a hissing sort of sigh, his eyes closed as he half-lay back on the wicker sofa. When she touched his arm and called his name questioningly he held up a shaking hand.

"Yes, I'm okay. Just a minute." He struggled to a sitting position and blinked dazedly about. "Oh! Thanks." She had handed him his glasses and he put them on with a practiced hand, setting them just right on the bridge of his somewhat large nose.

"It's official, then," she murmured.

"More than that," he agreed with a charmingly goofy smile.


	10. Chapter 10

James sighed. The autumn sunlight shone through the stable in bright rays with dancing motes playing about the hay piles. It was warm today with a slight breeze that would make riding pleasant, and beautiful outside. The Colorford mansion's rolling pasture was dotted with artistically placed trees that lent their golden and red toned hues to the otherwise green and dusty tan trailed expanse.

"No, Filly, we can't," he tried for the third time. "No one will accept her. She's not a pure Color."

"You're the one who's in love!" Filly Colorford raged at her cousin. She stomped one petite foot on the stable floor, causing the nearby dapple colt to whinny plaintively. "Honestly, James, you can't hide her in your closet and never marry anyone. The family won't permit it." She stroked the beast's neck soothingly and he calmed down at her touch.

"But I can't just show up with her around town!"

"Why not?" She turned back to him, her blue eyes like hard little sapphires. "You know as well as I do that whole lower class bullshit is ...well, bullshit." She giggled at her naughty choice of words.

"Horseshit would have been more appropriate," James murmured absently. She laughed louder.

"Did you kiss her yet?" Her features took on an impish cast and she leaped lightly onto the colt's mottled back as he choked. "What?"

"Filly!" He removed his glasses and touched his cheeks with the back of one hand. His face was burning hotly with embarrassment.

"Mmm?" She backed up slowly until she was beside him and stared down at her older relative. "That sounds like a yes! That's why you're worried, right? 'Cause you're getting serious." James fidgeted. He was wearing a light blue polo and dark jeans with riding boots. He clacked the heels on the ground, tugged at his shirt and refused to look at his cousin. Filly nodded and clucked to her colt.

"Wait..."

"No way, Mother will get suspicious if we don't ride at all. Remember what we're supposed to be doing."

"Yeah." He sighed and laid a hand on a nearby white gelding's trappings. The horse was sedate enough for him to be able to ride on calm days. He could manage a tougher one but he wanted to have a peaceful afternoon. The big horse nuzzled at his shoulder and he grinned in spite of himself as he mounted. Two figures watched from a garden patio fairly close by and he waved at them as he trotted outside.

"I'm telling you he's up to something weird," the big Orange man grumbled to one of the gardeners. He was holding back to give the Colorfords the privacy they had requested, though he was close enough to be able to dash in if anything happened to his blue-haired charge.

"Geez, Ruther, what do you think he's doing. It's James we're talking about. He's scared of his own shadow. He won't even go out here by the pond he likes so much if one of the lights're out at night."

"Why won't he bring her to the house?"

"Would you bring anyone to see that woman?" The thin man shuddered. "His uncle's nice enough but she can be such a ..."

"Yeah, yeah." Ruther waved a hand at him and uttered a short, ugly laugh. Lorraine Colorford was the terror of all the help in both mansions. How a woman who was as frightened of things as any Blue was could be so stern they never knew but she was ruthless when it came to a single speck of dust or a lukewarm meal. Most servants held her in some disdain except those who had known her for a longer time like the upstairs maid. The big bodyguard settled back down on the chair he was lounging on and went back to his brooding.

Something was up, and he wanted to know what it was.

And that was the one person James hadn't counted on during his midnight meetings with Elly - his bodyguard. The man didn't like the blue-haired aristocrat and, what's more, thought that this new development might really be a threat to his safety. If he failed to protect his charge who knew what could happen to him. Thus it was the big Orange man had begged off work that very day and slept for as long as he dared, taking brief naps in the car he hid near the Colorford Estate.

When the young man drove off that night he was ready and he followed him almost all the way to Elly's house. James was always careful and he didn't go by a direct route, yet the orange-haired man followed him close enough so he didn't lose the car in traffic. When he turned out onto the mountain roads the bodyguard stopped his car and pulled off on a side street to wait. There were hardly any houses up there and it would be suspicious if another car was behind him. Ruther turned off his head lights and slowly drove down the dirt road to the single house at the end of the street. He recognized the name on the carved-wood stump outside. The Sketchits had been to the fair a few times plying their trades and he'd ordered one of those wooden bear things for his own house her father had made.

His eyes widened as he carefully pulled his car off again, hidden behind some bushes that grew close to the road. He didn't bother closing his door to avoid the unnecessary noise and slipped off to where he heard voices on the side of the house.

"This is his secret?" His reaction was priceless as he witnessed the scene before him. Ruther's jaw dropped, his eyes squinting, growing cold and narrow as he watched for a time. He pulled himself together with an effort and slunk back to his car again. He knew what he was going to do but he required for the Purple to be alone first. Smiling grimly he cracked his knuckles and waited. The timid little Blue he worked for finally left - a smile lighting up his golden features for once, he noted -- but Ruther was a cautious man. He would wait until dark.

Perhaps he did nap a little again, for he jerked awake some time later to crickets chirping in the grass around the roadside. The sky was completely dark and the only light was one street lamp far down the road and the sickly glow from Elly's driveway lights. Solar-powered, they didn't last long and would soon drop off one by one, plunging the mountain road into almost complete darkness. The big man stretched briefly and then crept out as silently as he could, only stopping to pick up a thick branch that had fallen from a nearby tree. He tested its weight in one hand before nodding to himself. This would do.

Elly was in a state of nervous euphoria, so at first she thought she was imagining things when the soft noises started outside her house. What had happened was frightening and she didn't know what was in the future for them, but thinking he had found another woman had been bad. She wandered about her house in the happy daze one gets after sharing a romantic interlude with a special someone, not really paying attention and too excited to sleep right now. She was clad in a long lavender nightshirt and was barefoot so she wouldn't slip on the wooden floors. As she opened the fridge to see if anything in that gift basket he'd given her was left she heard another thump outside. It was a very loud thump, definitely not an animal except perhaps a bear. But she hadn't seen any in a long time now and it didn't somehow feel right. The doorbell rang and she jumped.

What time was it? She glanced at a nearby clock. Ten o'clock? Someone had driven all the way up in the woods in the middle of nowhere to come to her house? The pale young woman didn't like the sound of that. And that knock didn't sound like James. It was too loud, demanding. The door panels banged again, louder this time. Then the doorknob began to rattle back and forth angrily.

"That's not James," she gasped, her eyes widening in terror. She scrambled for her cell phone, laying on the coffee table and grabbed it just as the wood burst around the knob. Screaming, she flipped it quickly and tapped the emergency numbers as fast as she could, getting the simple set wrong the first few times. Ruther nodded when he heard her talking excitedly with the dispatch. He'd have to leave soon. He left the front door alone and attacked the back instead, as if he couldn't have gotten in already...

James was laying in bed happily dreaming of swimming with Elly in the mansion's large pool. It was a beautiful dream where they were together and the families had approved without any fuss. He was rudely awakened by the tone of his cell blaring at him on the night stand and not too thrilled about it. Knowing it could be an emergency he shook himself partially awake and answered it.

"Colorford," he mumbled somewhat sleepily. "James what? Who?" He nearly fell off the bed, his tanned face paling by the minute. "Fuschi?"

He listened for a moment, his lower lip trembling. "So she told you to call me? She couldn't, yeah, I guess she couldn't. Thanks." He snapped the phone shut and stared about wildly, trying to bring his mind to focus on what had just happened. It hit him all in one moment and he gasped, jerking a robe off the hook by his door and rushing headlong down the stairs as fast as he could. He was shaking he was so scared - what if the man that had tried to break in was still around somewhere? -- but he kept going anyway.

He didn't see the shadow watching him in quiet contemplation as he banged open the front door and raced to the garage. All he could think about was getting to his girlfriend who was sitting there completely terrified at Mark's place. When his car screeched out of the gravel driveway Ruther raised an eyebrow. He may have misjudged the little rich kid. He knew that there wasn't any danger to him in the sense he'd thought there might be, anyway, so let him have his fun while it lasted.

They'd catch him in the long run anyway.


	11. A Warning

Mark said nothing when James showed up at his tiny apartment, simply opened the door to reveal a pale Elly huddled on the couch with her arms wrapped around her knees. There were dark circles around her eyes and she looked frightened almost out of her mind.

He said nothing but he _did_ watch when the young aristocrat flung himself at his friend in an attempt to comfort not only her but himself as well. He noticed James was only wearing a robe thrown over soft silk pants and a pair of slippers. He must have raced here as fast as he could and he sort of approved of that. But since he was here it did mean one thing.

Mark sighed. He knew Elly didn't want to go back to her house yet and that meant he'd have them both here all night.

"I'll go make some warm milk," he suggested.

"Are you all right?" James' blue eyes were concerned behind his glasses as he stroked her arm. His lower lip pouted out as he struggled not to ask a million questions at once.

"I think so," she said in a tiny voice. Her head was buried in his chest, her hot face burning against his golden skin. She'd been crying and it had caused a warm burn to spread across her nose and cheeks.

"Do you think it was related to ...uh. What did the cops say?"

"They saw big footprints, probably a man's. Other than that nothing conclusive. And he went away without doing anything but breaking some wood along the door casings and a window."

"Sounds like a scare tactic," Mark said as he poured the steaming milk in a clear glass mug. He looked shrewdly at the frightened young lady and then added a generous dollop of rum from another cabinet. He sniffed once, made a face and sprinkled some nutmeg his girlfriend had bought on top before he brought it over to Elly.

"Thanks," she murmured gratefully.

"Well, it worked," James said in a small voice. His golden skin had regained most of its original color now that he'd seen Elly was all right. He still had a haunted look about his blue eyes and he started noticeably at every tiny noise outside the apartment.

"You came here, though." Mark gave him a very direct look. "and she wasn't hurt... this time."

"This time!" She choked on a sip of the hot drink.

"What do you think is going to happen when everyone finds out about you two?" The purple-haired young man crossed his arms on his chest. "I said it before, you'll recall."

James winced slightly. "But - but what are we supposed to do?" His arms tightened around the girl on the couch beside him. "I don't want to go back to the way things were before."

"We don't even know what happened tonight," Elly reminded them firmly. "It doesn't have to be related, you know."

"Why else would someone just try to frighten you? And after he was gone? This is a scare tactic, El. It's meant to be so devastating it makes you stop doing something ... and what were you two doing earlier?" He gave them a suggestive look that spoke volumes.

"Uh, we... ah." James stammered, his cheeks coloring. "Talking?" He finished lamely with a weak smile.

"None of your business, Mark!" Elly slurred angrily. The rum in the milk had struck her system hard. She started to move as if to get up but he walked around and pushed gently on her shoulders so she fell back in James' lap. Moments later she was snoring softly.

"Good," he muttered. "I still think the whole thing is a bad idea and I don't fully trust you, either -" he glared belligerently at James, who cowed somewhat under the stern gaze -- "but you're both stubborn idiots. Love does that to people." He made a wry face.

James opened his mouth, then closed it with a snap. He suddenly couldn't look at the bigger man and cast his eyes down, blushing.

Mark raised an eyebrow. "Haven't admitted it yet, huh?"

"I don't think..."

"Obviously."


	12. Inside Movie Date

After that one hectic night spent at Mark's apartment James was determined to keep Elly as safe as he could. He started staying longer at her place at night and even tried to buy her a security system, but she had refused.

"Those are too expensive for me to have, and everyone would know it," was her final argument. Her first had been she didn't want to take money or gifts from him. The young Purple woman was very insistent and made him promise he wouldn't spend money on her.

"But what if I just want to give you something - anything," James recalled how he had protested. She simply smiled and shook her head.

"You wouldn't understand why," she told him with a crooked smile. "Just please, for me?"

He had unwillingly agreed. At least she had bought herself some pepper spray and taken a few free self-defense classes at the local gym. That was as much as she could do with her limited budget and he'd have to be happy with that.

"Why won't she just let me _get_ her things?" He asked his cousin, still vexed at her refusal. "I want to make sure she's all right..." Filly stopped in the act of pulling her riding helmet off. He'd caught her as she was coming up to visit him after her morning ride and their conversation had, as usual, turned to matters he couldn't discuss with anyone else.

James jumped at a soft clicking sound, but it was just the coffee he had started brewing for them. He visibly relaxed, though his eyes scoured the room for snooping maids. Ophelia Colorford brushed the fine blue bangs off her forehead and gave her cousin the same sort of smile Elly had. He blinked at her as she laid her helmet aside and sat down at the smaller table in the kitchen.

"You're a man with more money than she has. She's ...well, you two are sort of serious. With all that implies," she added then, ignoring his choke of embarrassment. "You see now why she doesn't want to accept 'gifts'?"

"She doesn't think..."

"I don't know what she thinks," she said loftily, twirling a strand of hair in her fingers. "I just know that's what I might think if I was in her situation. And people would think it of her if they knew."

James pushed his glasses up his nose. "Um," he said. He suddenly was speechless as his cousin started to say something else. He was thinking back to the other night.

The time they had spent together had started like any other. They'd hugged, asked each other about their respective days and then gotten drinks and sat on the couch in the living room. They were watching more movies together these days since they could close the drapes and not worry about people seeing inside. Even if the patio doors were not facing the street, they worried her now. So it was that she popped in a DVD and they sat down to snuggle on the small loveseat.

It had been his turn to pick a movie and he'd chosen a somewhat romantic one without realizing it. His heart beat faster as the characters drew together on the television screen for their first love scene, and he slipped his hand carefully down her arm to her elbow, resting at her side. Elly sighed and shifted closer. His face burning, James forgot about the movie as his fingers wandered over her smooth skin to her inner arm. She looked up, her deep purple eyes half-closed, and they pressed together warmly. He'd gotten much better at kissing after much practice and didn't fumble now like he originally had; the glasses weren't even a problem anymore. As they brushed lips James moved his hand without thinking to cup the swell of her breast through the shirt she was wearing. When he'd felt the maddeningly soft weight he moaned and kissed back harder, more passionately. She'd responded back in kind, obviously wanting him. He felt it in her every move and touch of her own hands, sliding down his chest, pausing before lightly resting where he'd wanted them for months. But at the feel of hardness beneath his tented slacks she jerked and pulled her hand away. The young man had to bite his tongue to hold the groan of disappointment back that wanted to tear from his throat.

"Sorry, I'm sorry."

"No, I'm, um. I - it's me. I shouldn't have." She looked at him apologetically, her eyes appearing a little frightened, he thought, as well. "I can't. We shouldn't."


	13. It's Love

James hadn't trusted himself to speak further. He nodded numbly and tried to forget about the burning in his nether region as they finished the movie. He'd wanted her so badly - her touch, more kisses. He wanted to give her as food as he got, too, and thought he might be able to rise to the occasion fairly well. But every time they got serious she always stopped him. Was that why? Did she doubt his feelings, think he was using her? He shook his head suddenly, clearing his mind. Someone was shouting at him.

"Earth to James!" Filly was calling out loudly, snapping her fingers in his face.

"What!"

"Geez, you went out on me for a minute there."

"Sorry," he mumbled, his face turning an even darker shade of red. "I was just thinking."

"I could see that." Filly stared after him in compassion as he wandered over to fill their coffee cups. Nobody but her was going to be able to help him figure out girls if he couldn't talk with anyone. He'd have to find out most for himself and James wasn't a very bold type of person. She was amused to think of all the nights he probably went home with a case of blue balls. Speaking of that to her cousin was almost impossible - he got so shy, so fast! -- but Filly wasn't as uneducated as he might think. The look on his face, for one, when she'd told him why Elly probably didn't want his presents had been shocked but she had seen a glimmer of understanding in his sapphire eyes.

_Well, I can try again..._

"James," she told him quite seriously. He stopped in the act of picking up their cups, his thin brows raising. "She sounds like she's afraid you don't love her."

"I - I never said." He coughed and glanced down at the cups as he walked over.

"Ah," Filly breathed.

"Well?"

"If you've never convinced her you love her, she won't ...well, you probably know what she won't do."

"Filly," he groaned, covering his face with his hands, "It's not about that."

"Isn't it?" She blew noisily on her coffee to cool it. "You're scared. Even I can see it. You wanna buy her stuff and show her how you feel the easy way. If she doesn't let you, why can't you just tell her? That's why she's 'not buying it'."

He dropped his hands and stared at her in consternation.

James rolled his shoulders back and looked in the full-body mirror at his nude reflection. He'd just taken a shower in preparation for seeing Elly this evening and his vibrant blue hair seemed darker since it was still damp. He had a towel draped over one shoulder but it wasn't because he wanted to dry off. His blue eyes narrowed as he turned this way and that, watching the rippling of his abdomen and sighing with regret at the knowledge that he wasn't as strong as the musculature implied. His tan skin glowed golden under the soft lighting of his bedroom.

"Oh, well," he murmured softly to himself. "It's not that I don't try."

He glanced around and then walked over to the bed, a large four-poster covered with a varicolored blue quilt that he pulled back to climb under the silken sheets. James pulled his glasses off his somewhat large nose and stretched to lay them aside on the night stand beside his bed. Tonight was going to be difficult, but he had come up with a way to suppress the urges and the painful strain in his groin that accompanied his body's interruption when they made out. He carefully laid the towel underneath him.

It was obvious he was going to have to prove himself to her in many different ways before she would accept his advances further than a hastily-stolen caress or two. He didn't know how to do it, though, other than telling her straight out. His hand slowly grasped his stiffening body below and he groaned into the pillow. Every time he thought of trying his mouth dried up, his throat constricted and he couldn't speak. He squeezed carefully, thrusting onto the soft towel. It was peculiar, maybe, but he couldn't just use his hand the way many guys said they did. James blushed as he strained, forming a picture in his mind of Elly's body coming out of the water from the ocean, how her hand had felt the one time she had touched him down there...

It didn't take long.

He was cleaning up the mess in moments, tossing the towel in the hamper after he'd rinsed it off as well as he could. He fixed his almost-dry hair and dressed in a plain shirt and jeans. Tonight, he decided, he would pick a flower in the gardens out front of the house before he left. It was an inexpensive gift (the only kind she would accept from him) but she would see he was trying, that he still wanted to give her things - anything -- that made her happy. Mark and Filly had both brought up points he'd been thinking about for days now and he knew he'd have to tell her. He did love her, he knew he did. Thoughts of a life without her made him panic - he didn't know how he could survive -- and whenever he was around her all his cares seemed to vanish. It was ridiculous the way he found himself acting, but nonetheless true.

_He was in love_. This other stuff got in the way, confused him. He had hormones and desires like every man even if he was considerate enough not to press them upon her. He could take care of them easily enough, but he wanted more than physical satisfaction.

He just needed to tell that to the woman he felt that way about.


	14. We Have to Try

Since they couldn't go out and risk being seen together they normally rented movies and stayed indoors. Such things became boring after awhile even to the most dedicated couples and they began searching for new ways to have fun inside her home. Board and card games were purchased but even that became repetitious after a few days.

The young aristocrat had a plan, however.

James came to Elly's home that night with a Twister board in his hands and a blush on his cheeks. He'd heard that the game was fun when played with others - especially ladies -- and he'd taken the plunge to get one.

"I'm limber enough," she claimed with a twinkle in her eyes when he displayed the front for her to see. "Spread it on the floor here and let's see which one of us falls first!"

The first few spins were fine, of course. But after Elly had stretched herself across half the mat to reach a blue dot with one foot and a red with her palm he had the misfortune of getting an impossible green. He twisted this way and that, trying to slide a hand around her back to reach it while she laughed at his expression of intense concentration.

"Oh, shit," she giggled then, her purple hair whipping about as she tossed her head back. "I think I laughed too hard." James reached out to steady her and they both fell, tumbling to the mat below in a tangled heap. He had rolled slightly so he ended up on top of her and his mellow laughter filled the room. Her hands grabbed desperately at his neck as they fell and her eyes were wide.

"I love you," he told her very clearly. It simply slipped out, as natural as his next breath. His own eyes grew large as he paused, abashed at the way he'd blurted it out. He'd planned a more romantic setting, for one.

Elly reached around to touch his face fondly and he closed his eyes at the feel of her fingertips on his cheek, trailing down to his lips. When he gained enough courage to look, however, he saw an amazing thing. His pretty mermaid had appeared to be rendered speechless. Her cheeks were stained pink, her eyes shining and filled with an all-encompassing adoration that shocked him since it was directed at himself. James cocked his head to one side, his shining blue hair falling as he moved and cleared his throat.

"I mean it." She nodded, still unable to speak. He bent his head to hers and kissed her as softly as he could, his touch lingering. He'd worried for no reason; now that it was out he had no doubts or fears about expressing his feelings. When their lips parted she whispered the same thing back and his heart fluttered with joy. And this time when they began exploring she did not stop him at a simple touch. He shivered with reaction as he felt her skin under his hands. It was so hot, so smooth. He faltered when he touched the lace of her bra and gasped when she moaned.

"James, we can't..."

"I know." He kissed her deeply, hands sliding out from under her top. He planted them firmly on the floor on either side of her and concentrated on kissing instead of anything else. "I know," he breathed again, "but I want to. I want to so bad."

"Have you ever...?" She asked hesitantly. The young Blue raised himself on one elbow and stared at her nervously.

"Have I what?"

"Well, you know."

"I never even _kissed_ anyone before you. And I don't want anyone but you, always."

"I'm just scared," she said in a tiny voice. Her pale lavender eyes were filled with worry. "They'll never let us be together. What are we going to do?"

"I - I can talk with my aunt and uncle," he said tremulously. "It might not be so bad."

"James," she said pointedly, "you're from one of the noble families - no, not one, the highest house. I'm basically a commoner. Do you really think that will work?"

"Shouldn't we try?"


	15. Gathering Courage

James took his glasses off to clean them while he waited for his cousin to come back around the bend. She was riding the pretty little mare that had become her favorite and the horse was a spirited one, so he didn't have long to wait before she came prancing towards him.

"James!" Filly waved cheerfully and steered her mount over to his. The big gray stallion nickered softly as the smaller one approached and they touched noses. James watched this with some amusement.

"You old fool," he murmured. The horse snorted defiantly at him.

"What's up?" His cousin was radiant today; there was to be a dance soon and a prominent young aristocrat had asked her out. She was thrilled and it showed in her every move. James didn't want to dampen her spirits but he needed to talk to his only confidant about his own relationship issues.

"I needed to talk," he smiled gently. "I hear congratulations are in order, for one."

"Ah, it's just a dance. We're not serious or anything."

"I know." His smile faltered.

"Uh oh. This is about your relationship. Your serious one. Right? Is it serious? I remember what we talked about last time. Did you tell her?"

James clucked to his horse and they moved out at a slow trot. Filly followed. "I - I told her I loved her, yes," he stammered. The light breeze whipped about his cheeks, taking some of the heat off his burning face and ruffling his bright blue hair. He always blushed when he spoke of Elly.

"Yes, but did you _do_ it?"

_Maybe that's why_ , he thought ruefully. Aloud he gasped. "Ophelia!"

She chuckled wickedly. "Sorry, I just can't help it. You always look so shocked!"

"I, uh... augh." James groaned and fidgeted with the reins he held loosely in one hand. The big gray stared up at him over his shoulder and he sighed, holding them more firmly.

"You don't have to answer, I was just teasing." The tan youngster pursed her lips, looking speculatively over at him. "Besides, I can tell. I know you better than anyone else - well, maybe not now..."

"Filly, I didn't -!"

"Aha!" She doubled over the saddle bow with laughter.

"Oh," James choked, more than embarrassed. She'd done it again. "Filly, I'm in trouble. This is more than serious."

"Is she preg-"

"Filly!" He pulled the gray in front of the mare to block her path, an unaccustomed note of command creeping into his voice. "I want to tell your mother and father about my relationship."

"James, you can't!" She gasped, all the color draining from her pretty features. Her blue eyes paled as she stared at him. "They'll never allow it. You know they won't."

"What am I supposed to do then? Keep sneaking to her in the middle of the night? It's...it's disrespectful. I love her too much for that."

"But mother will throw a fit, maybe even blacklist her!"

"She's the only woman I want," he said simply.

"But if they blacklist her, James, she won't be able to find any help in the whole area. No one'll sell her things, buy from her or even _speak_ to her. If she's sick no one will treat her. It's a death sentence!"

"You think she would do that?" He sounded depressed. Ophelia saw that he knew it might be an option her mother would threaten him with. She wasn't certain about her father. He would not allow them to be together but she was sure he wouldn't call for such drastic measures.

"I know her. She'd try."

"What can I do?" He sounded so dejected. She watched him hang his head, his shoulders droop as he contemplated what his options were. So far as he knew he had none he liked. Filly took a deep breath and looked around as casually as she could. They were in an open clearing and no one was about.

"You could run off to the White Village," she said in a scarcely audible voice.

"What?!"

"No one judges mixed couples there. You know that."

"Filly, I'm the leader around here. They'd find out where I was and that would put the villagers at risk. The town would wipe them out to the last man just to get me back."

"Well, couldn't you fake your death or something?"

"All this faking." He shook his head. "What if something went wrong? That's what lies are all about. And then we'd be right back where we started - except now people wouldn't trust me. Maybe if I tell them straight out they'll be more reasonable." He scratched at his soft blue hair, messing it up more than the gentle wind had. Little tufts poked up here and there, making him look even less of a man that was in charge of so many people.

"I don't wanna see you go, James." She sighed. "But I don't think they're going to let you be with her any other way."

"I'm going to talk with them, anyway. You might not want to be around tonight. Can you go out or something?"

"Don't you want my help?" She pouted briefly.

"I think it might be better if you were neutral in this. Just in case."

"I hope you're right," she whispered fearfully.


	16. Denied

Filly came back later that night only to hear her parents voices all the way from the beginning of the paved driveway. Her mother was particularly strident and she cringed back as she caught some of what was being said. James must still be speaking with them. It was the only thing she could imagine them getting this worked up about. Usually her mother held back from screeching like "a common fishwife", as she might say, but this night she was furious and Ophelia knew why. He'd warned her to stay away and she had for as long as she could. Gritting her teeth she opened the double doors of the mansion and nodded to the maid who was standing with huge eyes behind one of the marble pillars in the foyer.

"Susie," she whispered, "How long have they been at it?"

"Miss 'Phelia," she gasped gratefully with tears in her eyes. "They've been screaming like this for hours. Master James ..."

"I know." Filly sighed and stared at the sitting room.

"I told you, it's not her fault!" Her cousin's voice was very close to breaking. He spoke with a rasp that was either the result of talking too long or him being very close to tears. "Don't you dare!"

"There's only two things we can do about this," her mother insisted. "You do this willingly or we take action!"

"It can't be," her father said reasonably. Filly knew he of all people would try a peaceful situation. "Listen. James, you still can be with this young lady."

" _Johnathan!_ "

"Hush, Lorrie." He spoke sternly to quiet his indignant wife. "You can be with her but you can't marry her. You have to keep the line intact, pure. I know it hasn't happened for some time but that's how we used to handle these situations when they came up. That's the best we can offer you, James. The only thing. You know that."

"I ..."

"That's all we can do, James." Her father sounded sad. "I'm sorry."

The maid beside her suddenly jumped as she heard footsteps walking down the hall. She scampered off before Filly could reassure her, which was just as well because the young man coming towards her looked like he needed every bit of it she could spare. James' clothing was rumpled with his shirt tails hanging down, the bottom half of the cloth rumpled where it had been tucked into his pants. The first few buttons were undone and his dark blue tie had been ripped down his neck, giving the morbid impression of a noose. He didn't even see his cousin and would have walked past her if she hadn't reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"James?"

"Huh?" His face looked more yellow than golden at the moment, sickly pale and streaked with tears. His blue eyes were unfocused with grief behind water-speckled glasses.

"I heard the last part of that," she said as gently as she could. He smiled wanly, reached over and touched her long blue hair.

"It's alright. It's what I expected, deep down."

"What are you going to do?"

"I have to tell her." His shoulders slumped. "I don't know."

For James, facing Elly after the discussion with his aunt and uncle was going to be the hardest thing he ever had to do in his life.


	17. She's Got a Plan

She knew, of course.

He came to visit her much earlier than he ever had and she thought she saw another car trailing after his, evidence that they were watching him closely. The car turned down a side street when he pulled into the driveway but she still felt that it was true. When he walked in the door she asked him with her eyes and he couldn't hold her gaze. Elly's heart sank.

"They won't agree."

"I knew they wouldn't," she sighed quietly. James hugged her tightly, his body starting to shake. He knew how their 'suggestion' was going to make her feel.

"They said you could be with me, but we couldn't marry." Her body against his became stiff immediately and he swallowed hard and backed away. "I only..."

"Then you'd marry some nice Blue woman to bear your child but I'd be there to screw on the side?" Her dark eyes were filled with pain and anger. "And any kid I had with you would be a bastard but _hers_ would be noble-blooded heir-to-the fucking throne?"

He hung his head. "Yes." He didn't deny it, it was true.

"No," she said firmly. "You know I won't do that."

"Filly thought we could run off to the White Village," he suggested tentatively.

"And they would come after you." He sank down on his knees in front of her, his head still down.

"Yes." Colorford wasn't a monarchy by any means but he was very much like a king. The whole region was united under the leadership of his family alone. It was what kept peace in the area.

Elly sounded bitter but she was not surprised. "The people in the village would probably be wiped out defending their homes. And the people here want you or your child to govern them. James, you know there isn't any answer that doesn't hurt us." She choked back her own tears as he hugged her around the knees. There was something so gentle and meek about the gesture that she could barely speak through her grief.

"I'm sorry." He held her and cried. It was too much to bear, so unfair and they had nowhere to turn. It didn't help that he had known deep down inside that this would be the end result of their relationship. The young man had fooled himself for such a long time that the shattering of the illusion he'd wrought was too much to bear.

He only wanted to be with the woman he loved.

James wasn't a strong man. He was sometimes a frightened one, a timid one. But he was a good man. Elly had fallen for that attribute more than any other. James didn't want to see the common people injured in any way through his actions and she could understand that they were many and she was one.

"Wait a moment," she told him softly. "I have something important to do." James waited in an agony of torment. He didn't know what she was doing in her bedroom but the thought of her crying, mustering enough courage to tell him they were through passed his mind. Would she? Were they? He refused to believe it even now.

"What?"

"I said, can you come in here a minute?"

Pushing his thoughts aside he opened the door and then faltered, swallowing hard and not quite getting past the lump in his throat. Elly was laying on her side on the bed. She was on top of the sheets, one leg crossed over the other and her head resting on the pillow.

She was also quite nude.

James choked on his next breath of air and tried to regain some of his composure. He couldn't. The woman he loved so very much rolled over slowly, artfully exposing herself to him in a seductive pose that belied the blush on her cheeks. She raised her head as if daring the blush to go further.

"It has to be now, James," she said softly.

"N - now?" His mouth had dried up and he licked his lips nervously as he watched her sigh and swing her legs over edge of the bed. She stood and walked over to him, seeing that he was frozen in place.

"Now," she told him firmly, wrapping her arms around him. He saw her eyes were red as if from weeping but she was amazingly calm at the moment.

"You mean...?" He hated himself for not being able to speak a full sentence. In his dreams this was not how this night had played out at all.

"Yes. I love you, James Colorford." He heard her voice dip low as if she were trying to fight off more tears. He reached up to stroke her cheek, his lips parted softly as he began to breathe heavier.

"And I love you," he whispered. "Always." Her body moving against his was a torment, nudging him in all the right areas and causing him to stiffen even further than the sight of her had done. He felt giddy, as if all the blood in his body had rushed below his waistline. He unbuttoned his shirt in a daze while she ran cool hands over his chest, slipping the cloth off when he was finished. Blue fabric swished to the floor to puddle around his feet and she sighed as he kissed her, relishing the feel of his body against hers. His golden skin was a marked contrast to hers and she couldn't resist stroking his back, his shoulders, his neck, anywhere she could reach.

"You're beautiful," he whispered hoarsely. Elly's deep purple eyes closed briefly when he spoke, a look of pain crossing her pale features. But when she opened them again it was gone and there was only sweet, soft joy. James allowed himself to be led to the mattress, taking a deep breath when she lay down again. Before he climbed beside her he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. His cheeks were flaming but he shoved them down to the floor as fast as he could.

Then he blinked.

"Huh? Oh, hell." He grinned abashedly, ducked his head. "Shoes."

"Let me help?" He nodded, knowing that he felt like he was all hands at the moment. He'd probably not be able to do anything right. Elly slid off the bed again and knelt at his feet. James reached out with a trembling hand and touched her dark purple hair in awe. No other woman had ever made him feel this way. He never wanted anyone else and he knew that if he had his way he never would.

"Thank you." His suede loafers set aside, she pulled the pants the rest of the way off and then touched the waistband of his briefs. "Yes," he murmured, half-standing so that he could help her remove those as well. Freed from its confinement, his member bounced once as if in approval from where it jutted out amidst a patch of hair that was as bright and colorful as that on his head. She looked at his sex for a long moment and yet he didn't feel embarrassed. He saw tenderness in her gaze and love, but underneath the same panicked desire that he felt. His girl was as new to this as he was, he reminded himself. Elly joined him on the bed once more and held her arms out. He nodded, paused to remove his glasses and place them on the bedside table before rolling to meet her.

And it was good.

It was so good that he cried out in astonishment at his first hesitant thrust, his body shuddering. The determined young man bit his lip, forcing himself to think of anything but what was happening. He barely struggled past a few minutes of gentle love. James grasped her tightly as his orgasm quickly overtook his body, hitting him with an intense cramp of pleasure. He may have screamed her name; he did not know. He came to with her legs moving lightly along his sides and her hands stroking his hair.

"Was that, was it all right?"

She stretched beneath him, her breasts flattening as she moved. Her body still burned below from pain and a regretful disappointment. He hadn't given her pleasure and yet... "You gave me you. It's what I wanted."

"Elly," he choked.

"James," she answered with a faint smile. "Lay with me a little."

"Mmm." He cuddled close. She was warm and smelled good, he was tired from his exertions. He might have nodded off had she not lightly tickled his side, causing him to jerk awake.

"No sleeping. Not yet." Her fingers walked along his belly.

"But I just ... I can't, oh. Oh yes. Oh, right there yes."

"See?"

"Please."

"Yes, today. For today..."

" _I love you!_ "


	18. The Plan in Action

Elly had not seen James for several days. It had been too dangerous so they had talked online instead, chatting on messenger and in emails. She knew he was trying to find a way to work around their situation, but she was more practical. She waited until she knew her plan had worked. Amazingly, it had on the first try and she was stunned. But fate had showed her the way, so she rolled her shoulders back and got to work.

And so the letter had been sent, her bags packed.

She was doing what had to be done yet she felt hollow, empty. The house she grew up in seemed cold and deserted without anyone inside, especially after the day she had just spent with James. Her eyes filled with tears and she gripped the bags she held in both hands as tightly as possible.

Just walk out.

Don't look back.

Her heels hit the wood floor loudly. She wore solid boots she would need for where she was going. They were practical, drab, just shy of ugly and she felt they suited her immensely. She started weeping before she cleared the front door but she didn't stop, only rushed forward to throw the bags in her car.

Inside.

Close the door.

Elly slammed a fist down on the seat beside her in anguish, trying to shake some of the emotions out of her that were boiling just under the surface. When she felt she had a better hold on herself she gripped the steering wheel, started it up and backed out of the driveway. She resolutely turned her back on Colorford and civilization as she knew it, instead driving further up the unpaved road towards the dark mountains. Several miles along the road became so ragged and rough she felt it might be safer to walk. Elly took out a worn backpack and slung it around her before shouldering the two bags she had stuffed full of clothing, supplies and a few small mementos.

How long she hiked up those mountains she had no idea, but it was starting to get dark before she saw a man-made trail. An hour later she saw trees had been cleared to form an imposing gate. It looked like a fort in the middle of the woods.

"Who goes there?" a loud male voice rang out from one of the trees near the gates. There was a very long silence as Elly decided what exactly to yell back. It was broken by a sardonic drawl on the other side, also male.

"Really, Camen? 'Who goes there'? How long have you wanted to say that?"

"Shut up, Greg."

"Where are we from, the middle ages?"

"I said shut up." Another pause. "Well, shit. As long as that's all ruined, here." A tall white-haired young man slid down from a hidden post in one of the trees. He wore clothing obviously designed to blend in with the mountain surroundings and had a small gun strapped to his hip. His hair was long, with braided strips curling around the sides. It was caught in a rawhide thong at the nape of his neck.

"I needed someplace to go," Elly said quietly.

"But you've got color," he pointed out. "What happened back there?" She bit her lip at this, stifling a sob. The bags she carried fell unheeded to the ground and the man jumped forward and caught her before she would have fallen.

"Crap, Camen. You've just got a way with newcomers, don't you." The other man - Greg -- had black hair and a kind face half hidden under an imposing beard. He was older than the White but dressed in similar clothing with a sidearm as well.

"Seen it before," Camen sighed unhappily. "The women always come here."

"'The women'?" Elly struggled to stand on her own, anger replacing her grief. "What women?"

"I beg your pardon," the lean man said with a polite bow marred slightly by the fact that he still held her in his arms. "What's your name? Mine's Camen Couslan. The big guy over there that smells like fish is my friend Greg."

"Pleased to meet'cha," Greg rumbled. His beard stuck out at her as he spoke, a being all by itself. "Also, screw you, Camen. I only had one."

"One's all it takes, my belligerently big-bearded pal. It gets stuck in there. You could feed a family of tiny birds - maybe mice -- for a week." He stopped talking, startled suddenly when the girl went limp in his arms.

"Good going. She fainted."

"Probably the smell," Camen sniffed. "Let's get her to the doc though, fast. She might be hurt or something."


	19. The White Village

Elly woke up feeling sore all over and very confused. There was a rough blanket covering her and soft light streaming in from a window nearby.

"You're awake," a female voice said in some surprise. "Are you okay? Do you know where you are?"

"In - in the mountains. I went to the village." She put a shaky hand up to her head and grimaced. "Oh," she moaned. It flooded back to her all in a rush and she felt sick to her stomach. "James."

The doctor came and sat by her bedside. "One of the men who was on guard duty brought you in. You were very fatigued, but that was all. I shooed them away so you could get some rest before they came back."

"Back?"

"Everyone has to answer questions about why they come here before they get accepted into the community," the woman said. She smiled at Elly who was craning her neck to see what she looked like. The woman was in her mid-thirties and she had dark brown hair streaked with white. It was a shock to see someone's hair turning and she stared a little longer than she meant to.

"I'm sorry," she said abashedly. "I didn't mean to..."

"It's all right," the woman laughed. "It's perfectly normal to be curious. You don't see folks with hair colors like ours in the normal world. It's just another thing to get used to here. And you will. Don't worry." The door behind her creaked open and a familiar face poked in. It was the white-haired man that had brought her here. She frowned, not remembering his name. It was something weird...

"Hello? Anyone awake in here yet? The council's getting antsy."

"Camen," the doctor scolded. "You can't rush things like this."

He stepped into the room. "Well, it looks like she's up. Isn't that what we were waiting for?"

"Yes, I suppose so." She turned to her. "Can you walk, dear?"

"Yeah." Elly ran a hand through her purple hair and swung her legs off the end of the bed. The young man held a hand out to her in invitation but she spurned his help and stood herself, standing shakily but upright. Camen raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

"This way." The tall man led her through the log house and out into the pale morning light. "Harry really wanted to see you," he added conversationally as they walked along the empty streets. When she was silent he went on, unperturbed. "We don't get many female refugees, you know."

"Do you want more?"

"Did that come out bad or something?" He laughed, keeping his voice down since it was so early. "I'm not a pervert or anything, just an idiot." He pointed with one leather-gloved hand at a building slightly bigger than the others. Its central location seemed to suggest the owner was of some importance in the town. "Here we are."

"Get your ass in here, hunter," a rough voice boomed the instant the door creaked open. The white-haired young man winced.

"Coming, Harry, don't pop a vein or anything."

"Nice. I haven't burst a blood vessel since the day Belle thought it would be nice if she went swimming in the lake."

"Leeches," Camen murmured in an aside to Elly before opening another door in the residence. She wandered inside all bemused by the joking and still dazed by the turn of events that led her here. An extremely large man was seated behind a wooden plank desk covered in papers. He had wild green hair that stuck up on the sides and looked as if it had been butchered with a machete.

"Here, here, let's get this over with. If I remember correctly, it's hard when you first get here."

"I don't really know anything that's going on," Elly confessed ruefully. "But that's all right. I don't much care anymore. So if you don't take me in I'll just keep walking."

"It won't come to that," Camen told her, shocked. "There's our village, yeah, but another further up the mountains. The whole top's scattered with different areas where people that don't fit into 'normal' society can live."

"Some of 'em ain't very nice," Harry snorted. "Let's get this done. We need you to write down why you're here. He'll read it and sign that he did. If we ever hear you lied or anything, you're out of the town."

"It's not that we want to be insulting, or to pry," Camen told her earnestly. "It's safer for everyone this way. We had some bad individuals once or twice. This makes sure we're safer in the long run."

"I understand," she said wearily. Elly wrote down her story in very few words: she'd loved a Primary but his family wouldn't allow them to be together. She'd escaped before he got in further trouble or she'd been attacked as a threat to the bloodline. Seeing it there in writing made her feel hollow inside, as if this were some sort of story on paper. A bad dream, maybe and not really happening.

"The person who brings a newcomer in gets to bear witness," the big man said shortly. "Camen, come here and read her statement."

"Yeah." He took the paper and scanned it quickly. His gray eyes grew sad as he reached the end and he sighed. "All right. Give me a pen so I can sign and I'll show our new friend around."

"That's it?" Elly blinked.

"Painless, right?" He pretended not to see the hurt in her deep purple eyes. No, there was plenty of pain there. He could tell. He admired the way she kept her chin up and refused to let people that were strangers to her see it, though.

"Get on with it," Harry grumped. "I got a lot of work to do today."


	20. It's Better this Way

James felt more enriched than he ever had the day after his time spent with the woman he loved. He was amazed, thrilled with the experience of sex and eager to convince her that they could be together no matter what happened. He was sure of it. They could do this somehow. He spent the new few days talking with her online in secret, excited for the next time he would see her again. He sat down at his computer and opened his emails. He had a new one from her, but frowned as he saw the title. He wasn't certain about this, however, and clicked on the link with a strange feeling in his chest. The young man's face grew pale as he read the long paragraph of text. His luminous eyes filled with tears at the end and he dashed out of the chair, only pausing long enough to grab a robe from a hook on the door as he ran to his car. The drive to her house was even more horrible than the one to Mark's had been when her home had been vandalized. He took chances, swerving to avoid other cars wildly with his breath tearing from his throat in panicked little gasps. When he reached her house he flung the door open and ran up the driveway, half falling as he stumbled in his haste to see if it was true. He took the key out from under the cunning little hiding spot and unlocked the front doors.

"Elly!" No answer, not even an echo. He raced around the rooms, falling to his knees to stare under the bed and opened every single door and cupboard large enough to hold her. She wasn't hiding in any of them.

She wasn't anywhere.

And the driveway had been empty, too, he recalled. No sign of her car. James spun around, the blue silk robe flapping about his legs as he ran back out to the gravel path. The stones cut his feet but he didn't notice. What he was looking for were tire tracks - tracks that should run towards Colorford and down the familiar dirt road back to town. What he found instead were ruts that led up further into the mountains.

She had left him.

Bewildered, he fell to his knees and then sat in the middle of the dusty road, his eyes filled with tears that began spilling down his cheeks. She'd left him because she didn't want to share him and she knew there was no other way.

Her email had told him to wait for her letter - it included signed documents as to what was to be done with her house and belongings. Mark would be getting the house and James could have anything from it that he wished beforehand.

" _... I love you, James, but I'm smart enough to realize what happens in these kinds of stories. I read enough of the classic tragedies when I was in school and I'm sure you did, too. One of us would have gotten killed or worse yet, killed themselves. This way we're both safe._ "

Filly held her cousin awkwardly as he cried all that night.

She'd read the email when he had come home, shaking, with his hair wild and dark circles under his eyes. Her mom and dad knew something had happened but weren't sure what. From the look on James' face when he'd driven back to the mansion - falling out of the car to crumble to the pavement in a sorry heap -- they assumed it was something bad for him. This meant good for them, of course, and Filly hated her mother with a blinding rage the moment she saw relief cross the older woman's face.

She felt relief when James was so distraught he kept suggesting that he wanted to fall asleep and not wake up. Filly was furious. She cleaned him up the best she could, wiping his face with a cool rag and then propped him up in his bed when she found he would fall to one side wherever she placed him.

When she began to get tired herself she called her father in. Johnathan Colorford sighed with pity when he saw his nephew's condition but he said nothing.

"Stay with him, dad," the teenager told him firmly.

"Yes, dear. It might be a good idea." He paused. "I've had the maids remove everything sharp from the bathroom and all the pills. Let's keep him here in this room for awhile until he gets over this."

She nodded wearily. "Yeah."

"Ophelia?"

"Yeah, dad?"

"The girl. She left, didn't she?" Filly's lip trembled. She nodded her head and he sighed again. "I was afraid it was something worse. I didn't want them to be unhappy, you know. But he has responsibilities. It sounds like in the end she knew that better than he did."


	21. A Feisty One

Back at the White Village, Camen introduced Elly to an unabashedly fat woman that answered only to 'Auntie Nolan', someone that would be living near her in the log cabin assigned to her. The houses along this area of the community were laid out beside a shimmering mountain lake. _The same one that had the leeches_ , she remembered.

Auntie was a white-haired, dark-skinned woman who mothered everyone outrageously. Camen was pulled into an embrace so deep that he was nearly lost in her massive bosom. He took this in stride, apparently used to it and merely introduced Elly as 'their newest member'.

"I have to go, Auntie," he tried for the fourth time as she pressed cookies and various sweets on them both. "I need to catch my lot for the day." His hands strayed to the knife at the side of his hip opposite of where the small gun had been the other day. There was no sign of the gun now, only the knife and a slender yew bow strapped to his side with a quiver of arrows slung across his back.

"All right boy, just go, then." She flapped a huge hand at him. "I'll show this child around her new home and settle her in. She looks tired," she said kindly. "Are you tired, dear?"

"Very," she sighed. Camen slipped out the door into the cool mid-morning air but she didn't notice. Auntie Nolan went with her to the next house over. Elly slumped over, barely listening to what the large woman was telling her as she showed her how to latch the door shut and where everything was. The woman finally realized she wasn't wanted and left the sorrowing girl alone, closing the door softly behind her.

Elly spent the entire day in the small house curled up on the bed and not moving much. She had sunk into a kind of half doze that dulled the agony she felt for now. She didn't eat, she didn't cry ...she didn't do a single thing except lay there. She even managed to ignore all the knocks at her door until the next morning, in fact. There was a louder series of bangs that caused her to partially raise her head at last. They stopped after a while though, so she sank back down on the pillow and closed her eyes. A moment later the door splintered around the lock as someone kicked it as hard as they could. She jerked upright, gasping in anger and fright that quickly turned to rage as the door swung open to reveal Camen's scarred and handsome face.

"Damn," he grumbled, kicking his foot in the air to dislodge a piece of timber that had gotten stuck. "Hey, new girl! We're not taking you in just to let you kill yourself, you know."

"Go away." She turned her face to the wall.

"My blinding charm hasn't convinced you of my good motives yet?" He clumped over to the bed and stared down at her. "This is - what do they call it?" He squinted thoughtfully at the ceiling and scratched at his white hair. "An intervention? Get up."

"If you leave me alone I won't bother any of you."

"If you come with me I won't _bother_ you." He paused to let that sink in and when she didn't move he groaned. "Hailstones," he swore under his breath. "You're the most stubborn woman I've ever met. C'mon, up now. Or I'll carry you out."

"Just try!" Camen's eyes narrowed and he tensed himself, leaning down and locking his arms around her. She fought him but since she was weakened from lack of food she eventually passed out again. He came away with many fine scratches and a pretty bad bite on one arm before that occurred, however.

"What happened to you?" Greg's huge black beard bristled in his direction as he walked into Auntie's house with the now-limp woman in his arms. A few others were there for supper, mostly people the newcomer knew to get her used to her new life.

"She happened." He grunted sourly as he laid her down on a sofa before the fireplace. "The little thing fights like a firebrand."

"Didn't want your help now, did she Camen?" The doctor Elly had met before was there as well and she came over to her side, gently laying a hand on her forehead and checking her pulse.

"No, she didn't Suze. Thankfully you're here tonight, too." He sighed and poked at the bite on his arm. "Crap, I'm bleeding!"

"You've been cut before," she said heartlessly as she continued to check her patient. "Ah, she's fine. Still tired, and her blood pressure is a bit low. Auntie's cooking should help fix that when she wakes."

"She did that?" Greg laughed heartily when he saw the teeth marks in his friend's arm.

"Keep laughing," Camen said darkly. "We drew lots to go fetch her, remember? We knew it was going to be bad."

"Can't help it if you're unlucky, lad." The big man heaved himself from the chair he was in and went into the bathroom. He returned a minute later with a damp cloth. "Here - clean it up. Auntie'll have a fit if you bleed on her clean floor." Camen nodded, casting an apprehensive glance to his right where the large woman was bustling over kettles and such in the kitchen.

"This brings up a good point," Susan said thoughtfully. "Does she have a weapon yet? I'm not certain she's mentally ready for the responsibility. We did have to drag her out of her home to feed her tonight."

"And she bit me!" The young hunter called out.

"She might do herself harm," the doctor went on.

"Hellooo? _Bit me_." Camen waved in the background.

"Camen's handled her before," Greg chuckled with an evil smirk.

"Good point. Maybe he can watch over her until she calms down."

"Now that that's settled, what's for dinner?"

"Whaaaat?!"


	22. Snappy Little Crocodile Thing

Camen took his appointed duties very seriously even if he was apprehensive about them - especially this new one. He got up at dawn like he always did, stretched to limber himself up, shaved and pulled on his work clothes. After a hasty breakfast he gathered his weaponry and walked outside into the brisk morning air. Elly's house was a couple over from his and he strolled along towards it to see how she was doing. After a few days they had gotten to know each other very briefly, yet he knew she woke at the same time he did and would always be sitting at her dining table when he checked in on her. This time he found another man standing outside pounding on the recently fixed door.

"Justin?" He frowned. Elly had never left the house except at night to eat dinner with Auntie. She'd never even met the belligerent young trapper in his team. Maybe he'd gone over to say hello since he had talked briefly about her the other day in the forest.

"That little bitch stabbed me with a fork!"

Camen blinked slowly. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Well, look," the dark purple-haired man hissed spitefully. He showed him a series of lined bloody dots on his hand.

"What happened?"

"All I was trying to do was be friendly." He sounded embarrassed, though, and he shuffled his feet a bit on the frozen earth.

"What!" Camen's voice rang out sternly. "Define ' _friendly_ ', you fool." His gray eyes were very hard as he stared down the man who bulked much larger in his furs than he did.

"We all know why she came into the mountains," he mumbled. "I thought -"

"No. You don't know everything." Camen snorted. "That's beside the point, though. The next time I hear you've been harassing a newcomer to this village I'll carve out your tripe." He fingered the heavy blade at his side as he spoke.

"You can't threaten me!"

"I just did." The hunter deliberately turned his back on the blustering man and stalked away angrily. "You work with me, Justin," he called back over his shoulder. "Don't piss me off by doing something stupid. It'll be better for everyone if we get along instead of fight." He knocked gently at her door and was admitted after a brief discussion. Justin stood there unable to believe what had happened. After a time, he shook his head and wandered off to bandage his hand.

"I heard what happened. I'm sorry he was an ass," Camen apologized once inside. There was a plate with some scrambled eggs on it in front of her. She had set the fork aside after she picked it up and it lay there, untouched since she'd used it to defend herself.

"It doesn't matter," she said tonelessly. He got the impression that she wouldn't be finishing her food again. He frowned a little and pulled up another chair.

"We're not all like that," Camen tried to console her. "It's just that there are rumors about why you came here. Things will quiet down after awhile."

"It's fine."

"Hey," he asked in a softer tone. "Are you sleeping better now?" The play of sunlight on her purple hair shifted as she turned to face him for the first time since he'd walked in. The young White was fascinated anew by her deep, sad eyes.

"Why do you always come here?" She asked instead of answering him. He caught the faintest tint of curiosity in her question and was glad; maybe he was helping draw her out after all.

"I don't know," he confessed. "Maybe I can't stand to see someone so gloomy all the time. In the beginning I was sent to watch over you. Now I just come here."

"If it's out of habit, then, you don't need to."

"Yeah, I know." He paused, placed a hand over his heart. "I, however, am such a comedian that I can't stand to see someone all mopey and feel that it's my duty to make you smile at least once!"

"Maybe I don't want to smile," she told him seriously. He ignored her with his usual tact and scratched his chest, thinking.

"You know, you've never asked about my name." He paused when she didn't respond and sighed, adjusting his belt so that the knife didn't poke into his hip. "All right then: ' _Camen, how did you get that very unusual name?_ '" His falsetto was ridiculous and reminded her of some TV shows she had seen where the guys dressed up as women as a joke.

Elly frowned at him in some consternation.

"Glad you asked!" He went on as if nothing unusual had happened. "I'm the main game hunter in the village. I lead a team of fellow hunters and we usually work on getting some type of meat like rabbit or deer, even bear. Hell, bear's good if cooked properly. But my main expertise is fishing." He smiled slowly at her when he saw her interest.

"You like the water, don't you? I can always tell a fellow enthusiast."

"I - I'm a freediver," Elly murmured hesitantly.

"Whoo!" Camen let out air in a huge gust. "Holy shit, girl! No wonder you can cry like that for hours straight." He winced when he brought that up but she seemed not to notice. "Well, I go on down to the streams we have up here and catch fish in a very unusual way. I'll show you sometime."

"Unusual?"

"Like a caiman." He laughed. "Look it up if you like. It's my namesake, snappy little crocodile floaty thing. Some people have even been impolite to suggest I got it because of my biting comments." He rolled his eyes.

"Don't you have to go hunt or something?"

"Yeah." He glanced out the window. "The guys'll be getting here soon. I'll be over tonight at Auntie's for dinner. I'll see you then." He left without waiting for her reply.

"Bye," she muttered after the door closed.


	23. Something About Elly

James held the framed photo to his chest as he lay in bed. It was the most recent image he had and he could imagine she was with him in some way as he clutched it against him. He slowly curled up on his side and cried a little. He always woke the same way every day since she had left him. He would walk woodenly over to the locked drawer he kept the photo in, hug it while he cried and then replace it safely back where no one would steal her from him.

"Good morning," he whispered through his tears.

Many miles away far up in the mountains a similar ritual was taking place. Her purple hair splayed out on the pillow, Elly reached out and took hold of the stuffed animal he'd given her so many months before. She clung to it and sighed bitterly, trying not to dwell on how much she missed him. On this particular day, however, she was interrupted by a wave of nausea so intense she scrambled for the bathroom as fast as she could. After throwing up for several minutes she sniffled weakly, clutching the basin she held on her knees and panting.

She shakily got to her feet and stumbled over to the sink. After splashing cold water on her face she decided a bath was definitely in order, so she started the laborious task of bringing in water from the lake behind her to heat up in the fireplace.

"A little different than what you're used to, huh?" He laughed and grabbed the sloshing pail from her. "Relax, I'll get it. I can see you're shaking like a leaf. How much more do you have to heat up, anyway?"

"Only a few more buckets." She rubbed her aching shoulders and followed him as he strolled back inside the cabin. "Is that okay though? You're dressed differently than I've ever seen you. I don't want you to mess up your clothes."

"Don't worry. The day I can't nab water from the lake without spilling a drop will be the day I let others feed me with a spoon like a baby. Sit down or something. You look like you're gonna pass out." And, still laughing, he went into the bathroom to empty the latest pail into the claw-footed tub.

"You're lucky, too. We got more tubs a year ago. A lot of us had to use the communal bath house before then. The horror stories I could tell you..."

"Ew?"

"Nah, nothing dirty. Just regular dirt and an occasional screaming girl." He flapped his hand and pulled an expression of maidenly terror. "I think, my lady, that your bath water is ready. Still cold but all filled up."

"Thanks. Err..." She grimaced slightly and held a hand over her mouth. "Oh, no. Move!" He stepped nimbly aside as she rushed to the recently emptied basin and filled it back up.

"Uh." He peered inside the bathroom where she was leaning against the wall with an exhausted expression on her pale features. "You all right?"

"I have to see Susan," she moaned faintly.

"Can you - are you all right to make it? You want me to get her?" His brow furrowed in concern.

"M'fine." She wiped a hand across her mouth. "I'll walk." Camen's light colored eyes widened as a thought struck him. He watched her for a moment, opening and closing his mouth as if to speak but no words came out. She looked up at him somewhat defiantly. "What."

"Nothing," he mumbled and backed towards the door. "I - I'll see you later all right?" She nodded wearily and he went on his way. He was taking the day off for once. He didn't get much free time but he'd made plans to take Belle to a dance that was being held. Belle was a nice enough looking woman - the prettiest in the village, truth be told -- but she had a sharp tongue and a way about her that had never really pleased him. He didn't like how she was so possessive of him. The brown-haired girl went to great extremes to make it seem they were serious to all the other females in the village. He knew why she did it, of course. Camen was a fairly decent "catch" in their society. Being a hunter he was always sure to have food on the table and that was something very important. His home was larger than other hunters in his group and as the leader of them all he was the one people came to when they wanted meat or fish. He sighed and shrugged mentally as he walked up to Harry's door.

"Hello, the house," he called more cheerfully than he felt.

"Camen!" Belle came prancing out of a side room and flung herself in his arms. She wore ribbons in her hair and a dress such as the like not many in town could afford, probably too formal for the dance but she enjoyed showing off.

"Hey, easy," he joked lightly. "I still have some bruises from the other day." The young man grit his teeth even as he spoke, knowing that was not the right thing to say.

"That little whore," she snarled. And there it was. The pretty face turned into a scowling mask in a second, her body tensing and pulling away from his. He sighed and ran a hand through his ponytail.

"That's not really nice, you know."

"Do you care?" She snorted and sat on the arm of a padded chair, crossing her legs and leaning forward in an obvious attempt to show off her cleavage. Camen looked but he raised a thin eyebrow as he did. He'd seen them before and wasn't impressed.

"Well, it's not as if she didn't have reason," he drawled comically. "I did sort of pick her up when she said not to. But Auntie wanted her to come eat and she wasn't going to move."

"Shut up about Auntie," Belle hissed. "She's _not_ the reason you're always with the new girl. Why are you chasing that slut around? She screwed up, fucked a big boy and had to run for it. And you're acting like she's so special..."

"Quiet!" Camen's hands balled into fists. "You won't speak like that of another member of this community!"

"Oh, cut the crap! You've been riding that 'member of the community' bullshit for all you're worth since you carried that little dumb shit into town." She pointed at him. "Everyone knows you want her. But why? Why, Camen?! She's a used-up baby depository and you can do better than that!"

"Damn it, I won't listen to this!" He spun around, jaw clenched in anger. "You can quit telling all the other girls we're together, Belle, because we're not, no matter what you want from me. You don't have any claim on me - no one does." He yanked the door open and stormed out. Camen heard her screeching at him but at least she didn't try to follow. He stomped down the road and soon reached the graveled path to his house, wondering how Belle had known what he suspected. Time would tell if Elly would not, he reasoned, and as he sat down in his chair in front of the cold fireplace he wondered anew why he couldn't stop thinking about the damn woman.


	24. A Confession

It seemed like he never had anything to do, anywhere to go except to her home. Elly was starting to get worried about the big hunter's continued presence and his uncanny ability to show up wherever she was at any given moment. She would be outside sitting quietly by the lake or taking a small stroll through the woods and he would pop up at her side, smiling in that crooked way he had, always ready with more jokes. Today he'd managed to invite himself over after dinner with Auntie. They sat at Elly's tiny dining room table under the glow of an oil lamp, listening to the trees pop and crackle outside and the roar of the fire behind them.

"My name isn't actually Camen," he told her in a hushed voice. "It just sounds better to me so I use the nickname instead of my actual one."

Elly sighed. "You're going to insist on staying longer, aren't you?" She glared at him and he pretended not to notice.

"Do you want to know my real name?" He pulled his hair free of the rawhide thong and ran his hands through it. As it floated about his scarred face it changed his features drastically, softening them quite a bit. She frowned.

"All right, give. What is it?"

"Promise not to laugh?" The corners of his lips twitched, the ragged scar on his left cheek shifting.

"All right, just tell me already."

"Camriel."

"Camriel?"

"Yeah." He snickered at himself. "Ridiculous, isn't it? My parents had some weird ideas, inflicting that shit on a baby boy."

"Hmm." She looked down at her hands. Camen tilted his head, catching the nervous expression that flickered across her pale face.

"I thought I'd find my parents here," she told him suddenly. "They said they went here but they're not."

"There are other places farther up in the mountains, remember?" He paused. "I don't remember if they came here or not but Harry would have the papers if they did."

"Oh."

"I just wouldn't go there by yourself." He recalled Belle's terrible anger. He didn't want that directed at her without a buffer, especially not when he suspected what he did. "Uh, I mean..."

"I know what you mean." She said flatly, her purple eyes hardening.

"Wait, I don't think you do. I didn't mean that as an insult or anything." He reached out without thinking and laid a bare hand on hers. She jerked it back as if he'd scalded her and he swore under his breath.

"Auntie told me you and Belle are..."

"Nothing," Camen snapped much like his namesake. He set his teeth and continued firmly. "She's worse than the snake that sank its fangs in my leg once. I got that poison to drain by slicing off a chunk of skin. Her? She's still trying to bite me."

"Why do you keep coming here?" Elly always repeated the same question to him every time he stopped over. He answered the exact same way he always did.

"I want to."

"Even if you know I don't want you to?"

"Especially then." Camen shook off his anger at Belle and smiled at the woman sitting next to him. "No one's ever resisted my godlike charms." He chuckled lowly and ran a hand through his hair again. His tone was mocking; he wasn't serious. The statements about himself were meant to amuse her and to make her laugh if he could. Elly was more concerned about other things, however.

"I never asked you to keep bothering me," she said tartly.

"No. You didn't." His gaze was steady and she was forced to break eye contact first. She both hated and admired him for that.

"Look, Camen, if you think I'm some kind of 'easy girl' you're wrong." She hurried on, missing the stunned look on his face as she rushed everything she had been worried about out as fast as she could. "I won't just fall on the first guy that shows up at my door, no matter how nice he is to me. I love my J - I love my man. The one I had to leave."

"You don't really think I'm like that, do you?" His voice had dropped a notch, becoming more deep, resonant. "I'm not. I hope you don't think that."

"What am I supposed to think?" She was near tears now. "I left everything I knew only a few weeks ago and there's this big guy that looks like some kind of elf weight lifter that keeps bugging me! You won't leave me alone. And then Auntie tells me you left the girl you'd been with and you're over here even more..."

"Maybe I just like all the pretty compliments you flatter me with." Camen held her hand tightly this time when she tried to yank it away. She wouldn't look in his eyes but her chin came up and her expression firmed.

"What!"

"I'm still here. You want to try and chase me away again?" He braced himself when her eyes narrowed. "Uh oh, I think that's a yes..."

"I'm pregnant."

Camen let out a gust of air. "I thought as much."

"Wh - you knew?" She shrank back from his calm acceptance. "Did Sue...?"

"No," he shook his head. "She'd never betray a patient. But remember I know why you left and then you kept getting sick every morning. Can I ask which house the guy was in? You mentioned before it was a Primary but was it that big?"

"Does it matter?"

"No-oooo," he said slowly, drawing out the word. "It doesn't diminish my curiosity, though. And, shit, that sounded rude didn't it? I didn't mean it that way." He slapped his face roughly, dragging his palm down his cheek.

"Exile isn't something most ladies choose in this situation, right?" Her voice broke and she tried to tug her hand out from under his again, becoming frantic when he wouldn't let her go.

"I know what most of them do," he grunted. "You didn't settle for that. And that's one of the reasons I'm here every day."

"You still want to come over all the time?" She sounded surprised.

"Yes!" He shook his head in disbelief. "You don't get it. I'll keep coming by. Don't you need friends now more than ever?" He was slightly disappointed at the relief on her face as he said 'friend' instead of something else but her smile warmed his heart.

"I guess."


	25. Lonely Suffering

James stabbed at the steak on his plate half-heartedly. The staff were going all out to feed him all his favorite foods to keep his weight up by order of his aunt and uncle. In the past two weeks he had dropped a good ten pounds and the doctors said it wasn't healthy.

He sighed and set his fork down. They had given him free reign of the mansion again and replaced the knives in the kitchen, pills in his bathroom. He'd smiled weakly when Filly told him they'd been afraid he would do himself harm. He was a coward, and he knew that more than ever now. To think he'd be bold enough to do something like that... well.

How little everyone knew him.

He'd been reintroduced in state matters and the Primaries had welcomed him back, if a little hesitantly due to the rumors flying around about his absence. Johnathan Colorford had quieted all suspicions in the end and smooth or rough, things were running just like before.

His nights were his own, the worst time he had to spend alone. Filly visited him when she could but she had her own life and he didn't grudge her that.

Everything had been done according to Elly's wishes. Mark had been shocked to find himself the owner of her house and James had to reassure him several times that he would make sure he always kept it, even if he had trouble paying his bills. The two men had gone through and donated some of her items to various areas and kept other, more personal pieces. James got up without cleaning his plate and slowly walked up the marble stairs to his room. He had started reading the books she had left behind, taking scant comfort in the fact that he was doing something she would like.

He grabbed a book at random off the shelf he'd had installed, pushed his glasses up further on his nose and sat in a chair by the tall lamp in a corner of his room. When he opened it and began to read he wondered what she was doing at this moment. Was she thinking of him? How long would it be before they forgot each other or would they ever manage to do it. He closed the book and lay back, his blue eyes distant as he recalled how it had felt to be inside her, her arms and legs clutching him as they'd made love for the first time.

And the last.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, casting a sad stare at the drawer where her photo was tightly locked up. He'd taken to talking to himself lately, but if the truth be known he always spoke to the picture. "I should be with you. I'm not strong enough, not good enough."

Her letter had told him he was a good man. He rejected this. If he was a good man he'd be with her right now, wouldn't he? And the worst part was the fact that he knew he was capable of living with what had happened. He would go on and so would she, and if she married or fell in love with another?

At least he'd never know.

James hung his head, blue hair swinging down to obscure his face as he squeezed his eyes tightly shut. After a few minutes he sighed, picked up the book again and settled back to read.


	26. Bittersweet News

She told Auntie the next day.

"Oh, dear, that's wonderful news." The kind woman embraced her warmly and Elly smiled through a warm trickle of tears. She laughed regretfully and reached for the handkerchief she always kept in her pocket now.

"I keep crying," she apologized. "I'm - I'm happy, but I wish..."

"Your man," the old woman said gently. "Would he be happy?"

"I ... yes. I think he would." Her voice cracked and she trembled as she fought to hold back more tears. "Auntie, was I wrong? Did I do the right thing?"

"Sit down, child," she murmured soothingly. "I'll make us some tea." She toddled over to the cabinets above her stove and pulled out a worn tin kettle. "What is the 'right' thing, after all," she mused.

"Well, I could have stayed with him. If I had agreed to what his family wanted."

Auntie snorted. "We hear stories about things like that from time to time. I wouldn't have been happy that way and I doubt you would have, either." She filled the pot with water and rummaged around in a drawer for some crumbled leaves. "It'll be harder here for you. Rougher. It already is, you see that. We don't have no running water and we barely have generator-powered electricity. But it'll be good for you."

Elly smiled weakly. "I hope."

"It's doing you good already," she grunted with effort as she leaned over to sprinkle the leaves in the water. "You got friends, you got your man's baby and the child will be raised proudly here. Strongly. Something he or she wouldn't if you'd stayed."

"Auntie Nolan?"

"Yes, dear?" She brought two cups to the table and set the steaming kettle down in between on a quilted hot pad. She poured the tea and Elly nodded gratefully.

"The girls in town don't like me very much, do they?" Elly blushed at the old woman's direct stare. "I hear how they whisper behind my back when I go to see Susan for a checkup."

"Not all of 'em like that," she dismissed with a wave of her meaty hand. "I'll invite a few of the better ladies over for some sewing tomorrow. You'll see. Not everyone's like Harry's little minx."

"I didn't steal Camen from her. I don't even _want_ him!" It was out before she could think how it must sound. Elly sighed bitterly.

"No, you didn't," she said, amused. "Man like him decides who he wants. Not the other way around." She gave her a very direct look and Elly squirmed uncomfortably. Right before it was got unbearable Auntie dropped her eyes and laughed.

"Listen to me, going on and on. We gotta get you started on giving back to the community soon, girl! What can you do?"

"I'm an artist." She made a face. "I can swim and dive really well, and I guess fish. Um. I can sew, you know, and make all sorts of crafts."

"Blankets? Quilting? Weaving?" Auntie rattled off a list and nodded in approval when Elly said yes to most of the things. "That'll be just fine. And you can work on those things during the winter time. It comes fast to the mountains, which reminds me..." She squinted at the pale young woman.

"Uh oh," Elly murmured.

"Ah, nothing." She grinned suddenly. "Don't worry none, Auntie has an idea that will work out just fine." Her dark features wrinkled as she smiled broadly.


	27. Arranged Marraige

"I can't do it," he said tonelessly. He removed his glasses and laid them aside carelessly on a table nearby. "I can't."

Ophelia Colorford sighed deeply, her blue eyes filled with tears. "Please don't start again, James," she begged. "I don't like what happened either but you can't change anything. It's the past now."

"I can still go to her!" He banged the window and it rattled with the force of his blow. "I can't take it. I try to be strong like she wanted but it's too much. I love her. I love her so much. I bleed, Filly, I hurt, every single day." He stared blankly out the window as tears streamed down his golden cheeks.

"You can't go there, James."

"Does she think I don't love her?" His voice was barely above a whisper. "I don't come for her. Is she really waiting, deep down inside? Even though she told me not to come?"

"Don't do this to yourself."

"She'll think I never loved her at all," he wept.

"Why would she do that?"

"Your mother wants me to get married!" He shouted at her with such uncharacteristic rage that she backed away from him quickly. "She'll kill me, Ophelia, she'll kill me with her fucking demands!" He grabbed his glasses from the table and ran blindly down the hall. She heard a door slam closed but she stood, frozen and frightened by what he'd said. Slowly, unsteadily, the blue-haired young girl walked out of his home and across the park towards her own. She was let in by a familiar butler and asked him where her mother was.

"In the sitting room on the first floor," he said quietly. She plunged along, her hair streaming after her as she went. He hurried off to warn the rest of the staff of what was almost certainly going to be a noisy confrontation.

"Mom," she grated as she stepped into the room. Lorrie Colorford was seated on a richly upholstered chair with a bowl of fruits at her fingertips. She seemed startled at her daughter's sudden appearance but not truly surprised.

"Yes, dear?" She paused. "Don't stomp, please. Ladies do not."

"I'll do worse than that if I want!" Filly raged. "James told me you're trying to get him to marry someone?"

"Oh, my yes," she said calmly. "I arranged it all. The family is pleased and he should be, too."

"Mother, are you insane?!" Filly shook her head wildly, still not believing what she'd heard. "You can't push him into this! You just made him lose the girl he's in love with and now you want him to marry this one?"

"I did nothing of the sort," Lorrie sniffed haughtily. "Ophelia, please. He needs to forget about her. This is the best way."

"Yeah, if he was actually in love with the other girl! But he's not!" She pointed in the vague direction of the Colorford mansion. "You'll only force him into something even more stupid."

"Your father doesn't agree with me either. What is wrong with all of you?" The older woman raised herself up imperiously. "I tell you, marriage will settle that boy down! Otherwise he might have another one of these accidents."

"Accident?" Filly stopped and stared at her mother. "Accident? You think love ... is a ...?"

"He didn't love that girl," she asserted.

"Mom," she gasped. "I can't believe you." Filly choked. "I just _can't!_ " She turned and fled, sobbing, up the staircase to her room.

_Just when things couldn't get any worse_ , she thought in horror. And how could she even help James with this?


	28. The Hard Season

"Auntie!" Camen gasped. "You want me to ask her _that?!_ "

"She doesn't know what it means here," the large, brown-skinned woman told him cheerfully. "You'll get a whole winter to bring her back from all that sorrow and you'll get a chance." She eyed him knowingly.

"I, well, maybe ..." The tall man coughed and scuffed one foot on the floor like a schoolboy. "She does need someone to help her through the hard season."

"You need to settle down, Camen. Harry's girl wasn't right for you and none of those others held your attention long enough. I see you looking at her the way you do."

"She's going to think I'm taking advantage of her!"

"Fnf." Auntie snorted. "I'm right here and I'd kick your ass every day the rest of your life if you did wrong by any girl."

Camen raised a thin eyebrow. "You obviously haven't been talking with Belle."

"That girl's a troublemaker." She dismissed her with a snap of her fingers. "I've never seen you act this way around anyone else. She's at least friendly with you ... might go a little further, if you play your cards right."

"You're a meddling old woman," he groaned as he hugged her. "All right, all right! I'll go right now. The snows are coming soon and she needs to know anyway." He left, shaking his head and talking to himself under his breath. Auntie sighed and hefted herself down in a chair by the table. A shadow passed across her and the burly Greg walked in from the hallway. He grunted.

"Are you going to tell her that it's customary for a man and woman to try a wintering together before marriage?"

"You hush, fool," Auntie slapped at Greg's arm. "Camen's taken with the girl. He needs this and so does she. If she got a good man behind her she'll heal much faster."

"I hope you know what you're doing." His beard bristled. "I like that boy and I hate to think of what she's liable to do to him if she finds out prematurely."

"You worry too much. Y'see he didn't deny it."

Camen hesitated before knocking on Elly's door. Though his talk with Auntie had given him momentary courage he wasn't sure he was prepared to get yelled at. He finally sighed and tapped gently.

"Who is it?"

"It's me. I have to talk to you." He heard her sigh and then the door unlatched.

"What is it now, Camen?" He held up his hands.

"Okay, can we establish a few rules first? Scream all you want, but no biting this time."

Elly's eyes narrowed. "I think you've prepared me for the worst," she said quietly. "Go ahead."

He took a deep breath. "You need someone to take care of you through the winter," he told her bluntly.

"Ha," she said. "Ha, ha. Now that you gave that a try, can we be serious?"

"I _am_ serious. No jokes this time." He stared directly into her eyes and she saw he was being completely honest.

"What? N- no, Camen, I don't want to. Don't get me wrong, I've done it before with another guy friend but you..." She clamped her lips shut on what she might have said.

"Me?" He asked very softly.

"No, okay?"

"Not okay. It's either this or live with another family. Even Auntie pairs up with Greg when it starts to snow!" She pushed out at him with an angry frown and he caught the hand. That was getting very tiring. She tugged but of course he held it again like he had many times before. "Quit it."

"Listen to me. I want to help."

"No."

"I'm not suggesting we sleep together or anything," he said patiently. "You can move in with me, it's bigger and there's room for two beds."

"No!"

"You won't make it through the winter by yourself. You need someone like me. Do you want it to be one of the others, maybe a house full of strangers then?"

"Who did you stay with before? All the other winters?" Camen was taken aback at her vehemence.

"Myself," he said with some surprise. "Didn't Auntie tell you? Not everyone pairs up."

"She neglected to mention that," she grumbled. He winked at her and she scowled at him.

"Don't tell me you were jealous." He paused when she snarled angrily under her breath. "You were! You were jealous!"

"I don't want to be close like that to _any_ guy!" She sprang up so quickly the chair fell back to the floor with a loud clatter. He saw the blow coming and tensed himself slightly. His face still rocked back with the force of the slap, the small scar on his left cheek livid amidst the red mark where she had struck him.

"Fiery little thing," he murmured.

"I'm not little!" Elly stamped her foot on the floor in rage. "You're ... you're a huge fucking monster, of course I look tiny to you! Why are you doing this? Why won't you leave me alone?"

"I don't know!" He yelled, losing his own temper at last. "I wanted to fix things for you the first time I saw you cry. You're a stubborn, silly, hard-headed bitch and I think I'm in love with you." It was out before he could stop it and he knew it was a mistake.

"What? You _can't_ love me. We've only known each other a few weeks."

_Isn't that how long you knew James originally? Cut that out!_

"I don't know, all right? I'm confused."

"I still love him," she said in a small voice. Her chest heaved and she made an effort to lock the tears away before they could spill forth again.

"I know," Camen grated. "And I don't judge you for it. I admire that, as a matter of fact." He swallowed hard and went on, "No, really. Love isn't something you take lightly. I've seen too many wenches here not give a damn. You - you're different. You did so much for this guy and even now ..." He stopped when her lower lip started to tremble. "You know. You're still honest to what you feel."

"You've been very kind to me," she said timidly. "If I ever wanted anyone else it might be you. I just find it hard to trust a man right now. I don't want that kind of relationship."

"Now you know where I stand. I uh, promise not to rush anything though. Will that do? Auntie would kill me if I did anything ungentlemanly, you know that." He grinned weakly.

"Do I have a choice?"

"You always do." He raised his eyebrows at her. "This isn't about me forcing anything on you."

She turned the proposal this way and that in her mind, struggling with it. She could see no other way of getting through a rough winter all by herself and she quailed at the thought of spending it with strangers. She'd done it before with Mark but it had seemed different. Camen and the few others she knew were all she had right now. Above all else she had to protect her baby.

He could provide that protection.

Elly angrily kicked him in the shin and he grunted in pain. "Owwww, is that any way to say yes?"

"Yes. All right? Yes. But I want it clear that I'm not happy about it."

"Oh. And here I thought you were going to give me a kiss." He rubbed at his leg. "Maybe I should start wearing padding or something."

"Good idea," she said darkly.

"Oh, lovely. What a _wonderful_ winter we're going to have."


	29. Grudging Acceptance

Elly had decided.

She rested her hand on the rounding lump of her pregnant belly and closed her eyes, rocking softly in a chair by the windows.

Timothy if it was a boy. She'd talked with James before and that had been his grandfather's name. Since she wanted to choose something that he would have approved she would pick that or Alison. That had been his late mother's name and she felt he would like that, too. What would he or she look like? The nature of James' hair would mean his would dominate her color in the child. She wondered exactly how Blue the baby would be, absently conjuring up images of shades in her head. She sighed, pushing those thoughts away for the moment and staring outside at the frozen ground that was sparkling with frost. The lake was starting to freeze over as well and she wondered what it would look like powdered with snow. It was all very pretty but she would give it up in a moment if she could be with James again. She sighed bitterly. The wooden floor suddenly creaked and she turned her head.

"Hey, is this all your stuff?" Camen's weathered face poked into the bedroom and gestured at the bags he had slung over his shoulders. "You didn't have anything else?"

"No, I packed it all up again," she said shortly. "Just put them there." When he nodded and was about to back out she pointed meaningfully at the single bed in the room.

"Aww," he pouted. "And here I thought that was the most subtle way of suggesting we share body heat during the cold winter nights." He yelped and ducked as she threw the pillow from the chair she was sitting on at him.

"I'm getting another! I swear!"

"Right now, Camen. I'm tired."

"Use mine." He shrugged and left in a swirl of white ponytail before she could say anything else.

The neatly-made bed was so inviting, and yet she couldn't. "No," Elly dismissed the idea firmly out loud. Though she was tired, sleeping in Camen's bed would injure her somehow. She clung desperately to her memories of James. How he had smelled, how his skin had felt under her hands as she clutched at his back or stroked his cheek. She frowned as she remembered her soft regret at the last day they had spent together. Wasn't sex supposed to be good when your love was so great for the other person? Ah, but he had given her his child and that was what she had really wanted. She closed her eyes and let the swaying of the wooden rocking chair soothe her. Camen came back at one point but froze in his tracks when he saw her silent by the window, her face wet with tears. The big man watched her quietly for half a minute, his gray eyes compassionate. Then he slowly backed out of the room again to give her some more time alone.

"Well?" A man the same age as Camen stood there with one hand on his waist.

"She's tired. I'll bring it in later." He paused. "Thanks, Ti." Tiduu was one of his group of hunters. He was a light yellow haired young man, thin and small in stature but great with a bow. He had an extra bed that was better quality than the one Elly had been sleeping in at the house they'd given her originally and he'd generously offered it to them. He had carried the mattress over while Camen shouldered wooden frame of the bed himself.

"Awright." Tiduu shrugged. "Hey - you gonna let me meet her before the winter snows set in? She's so reclusive everyone's talking about her."

"I know." Camen sighed and brushed a hand through his thick sideburns. "She's been through a hell of a lot. And then Belle..." He bared his teeth briefly.

"That little bitch." Tiduu paused. "I told you she was trouble, Camen, I really did."

"Bah. Is she telling stories again?"

"She's really holding a grudge against Elly. You better watch her. She's got some of the dumber wenches believing she's some kind of seductress or something." He paused. "Of course half of 'em believe it because you've never committed yourself to winter with any girl before."

"Eh." The lead hunter's face burned a little with embarrassment. "C'mon, Ti, you know Auntie sort of made me do it."

"Don't try and bullshit me," Tiduu laughed boldly. "You can't fool your mates. We see how you get that puppy-eyed look when you talk about her. You didn't care about any of the others, especially Belle that way."

"Will you quit talking about Harry's spoiled little brat?!"

"I'm still not done telling you ' _I told you so_ '," Tiduu snickered. His yellow hair blew in the biting wind outside the cabin as Camen opened the door.

"Yeah, you are." He pushed him outside and closed it firmly. He heard his friend laughing as he walked away and he smiled, shaking his head. In fact Camen was so flustered with what they had been discussing that he didn't see Elly's shadow in the doorway where she had been listening.

She melted back into the bedroom before he turned around, her expression pensive.


	30. Dreams and Nightmares

The day was warm and beautifully sunny, the light glinting off the fish pond in the Colorford mansion's palatial backyard. Flowers were everywhere and the young man looked down at himself, not surprised to find himself dressed in a full tuxedo with a white rose in the lapel. He glanced down the flower-strewn path and saw her standing to one side of the altar, radiant in a light lavender gown with her purple hair pulled back with more flowers and laced with a veil.

Everything was perfect afterward in the bedroom - his room, now theirs -- taking her in his arms to lay with her, bliss in the knowledge that she was his forever.

James woke up in a cold sweat, gasping for air with short, panicked shallow breaths that made him feel dizzy. His bright blue eyes darted around the room, cast about the bed by his side and found it empty.

"No more dreams," he begged. "No more, I can't take it, I just..." His hands gripped the bed sheets, pulling them this way and that in his anxiety. "Elly please, no, I can't take it." The tears started and he didn't hold them back. Lorrie Colorford's brutal demands had forced his thoughts in a terrible direction.

_What if she forgot about him?_

She would, wouldn't she? Eventually. Isn't that how time worked, how love faded after time due to necessity, absence of the other you cared for so much and that now was gone forever.

It tormented him.

He didn't want to think of someone else holding her, comforting her in her time of need. Was she crying about him, lonely for him every night like he was? Or would she turn to another man's arms in her grief. James wouldn't know but instead of making him feel better it cut him deeper every time he thought about it. The young aristocrat berated himself for being such a crybaby but he needed the tears. They helped him sleep at night when he woke like he had moments before. He'd cry until he was tired again and then fall back into that welcome oblivion.

It had been a month now since Elly had left and the mountain passes were starting to cover with snow. He watched the weather all the time now, checked the radar online and worried. Was she all right? They didn't measure snow up there in inches, they did in feet - or so he'd been told. The villagers always managed to pull through but she hadn't been born there. It would be difficult and he couldn't bear the thought of her going through all the hardships she more than likely was. But if she'd stayed she would have been a toy, a puppet to everyone but him. They could never have been together the way they wanted to. He knew in his head what she had done was right. It was the fastest way to cut them apart, clean and sharp and painfully far away from each other.

He'd told her he would love her always.

Would she love him the same way? Could he even stay faithful to her like he wanted? His aunt was already making plans for his arranged marriage and he saw absolutely no way out of it. He could refuse but he had a morbid vision of her dragging him, drugged and blindfolded, towards the altar to meet his fate and a girl he'd never even seen before. His gut wrenched suddenly and he leaped out of bed and bolted to the bathroom where he was loudly and violently sick.

"Anything but that," he moaned. "I love _you_ , not her."


	31. Stuck with You

They hadn't been joking when they told her snow came early to the mountains. She had scarcely gotten her meager possessions moved to Camen's larger log cabin when the first snow storms started.

The days passed without much fighting, largely due to the fact that he was very busy preparing for the winter months. Elly barely saw any of him at all and that was fine with her.

But Camen was a productive man and he soon had most of the work finished. Before long the rafters were hung with food: cheeses and cured meats hung from the beams as well as bags filled with goodness only knew what. The cellar served as a larder and it was stuffed with all sorts of good things. There were various meats and dried carrots, ale, wine (plus something he called mead) as well as potatoes and turnips among other roots which he informed her would be their only source of vegetables during this time.

One day she woke to a repetitive chunking noise. She got up sleepily, not quite grasping what the sound was until she pulled back the thick curtains and peeked outside. Camen was there, chopping wood like a man possessed. Even though a light snow had fallen and it was obviously cold he was stripped to the waist as he worked. His upper body was massive, rippled with cords of muscle and laced with all sorts of scars everywhere. Elly couldn't even begin to count them all and when she realized she had been staring she jerked her eyes away, angry at herself. She let the curtains fall and washed up for the day, taking care to weigh herself and record everything like the doctor had suggested. She was starting to show now and she ran a gentle hand over her belly, smiling sadly.

"I love you, baby," she whispered.

The door clicked and she turned. "Hey there," he called out. "I thought you'd still be asleep."

"You woke me up."

"Ahhhh, shit, did I?" His face fell. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to cut another cord before we got more snow today. It smells like we're in for one of the big storms."

"That's all right." Camen hadn't bothered to put his shirt back on and she was careful to keep her eyes averted. He found this highly amusing but didn't tease her at all. He simply rolled his shoulders back and yawned.

"I gotta wash up."

"I'll make breakfast." She wandered over to the stove while he dipped a small towel in the basin of water she'd just used. The water trickled down his neck, catching in the thick mat of white hair that covered his upper chest. He sneezed.

"Bless you," Elly said absently.

"Thanks." He dried himself off and slipped his shirt back on. It was something one of the traders had brought back from the town below, a simple black t-shirt with some logo on the front. It clashed terribly with his roughly woven pants but he was uncaring. It covered him, that's all that mattered. "Eggs?"

"Mmm hmm. Camen?"

"Yeah." He sat at the table and watched her as she cooked.

"How does it stay cool enough down there to keep everything fresh?"

"In the cellar? We'll have to eat certain things first no matter how cold it gets. It all comes down to good planning. But I can always go out and get fresh meat, so we're not one of the families that has to worry about that."

The egg she was cracking fell to the floor. He blinked, confused, as her shoulders started to shake. "No, we're not," she choked.

"Did I say something stupid again?" He mentally ran through what their conversation and blanched when he came to the 'family' part. Oops. Maybe he could ignore it. "Did I ever tell you how I can do that? Go out during the winter snows? I didn't, did I?"

"You didn't." She bent and wiped the mess up.

"The snow piles up all the way to the top of the house sometimes, but some of us can dig tunnels in it and reach the surface again. It's ..." He stopped short, staring at her hunched over form. "Damn it. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I meant, uh. Shit." Camen got up and went over to her, gently taking her by the shoulders and pulling so she stood as well.

"It's me. It's just me, I know what you meant."

"Going to pass it off on the hormones again, huh?"

"Screw you, Camen," she gasped tearfully.

"Ahhh, back to normal! I was worried." He patted her head gently and stepped back before she could strike. " _No hitting!_ We agreed there would be no hitting."

"Except special occasions."

"Oh yeah."

"I hate you!" She suddenly screamed at him, striking out at his chest with all her strength. The blow landed without effect; he was strongly built and it didn't hurt him physically. He wondered why she hadn't slapped him across the face or scratched at him like she had before. It would have been more effective, she knew that. Elly slammed the bedroom door behind her as she ran from him. He could hear her sobbing. Camen did not chase after her. He sat heavily down on the floor where he was, off to one side by the fireplace and staring blankly into space at nothing. He was almost positive she did not, in fact, hate him. What she hated was her inability to change something in her life, to fix things. She was desperate even after the fact to find something, anything, that would make things "better" again. To bring her back to the man she loved. The strapping young hunter groaned and laid back on the wooden floor. His head rested on the throw rug but his bottom half was on the cool, well-worn planks that made up the floor of his cabin. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths.

He shouldn't have denounced her man - _what was his name? James_ , he remembered, _she'd let slip that much_ \-- ever in any way but he had nothing but contempt for him, especially at times like these. Primaries had run off to live in the White Village before, why couldn't he have done the same? That would have spared her so much pain. The only reason he could think was that he didn't truly care for her. Feeling the pangs of what he had come to grips with as love, he was angry that someone - anyone -- had hurt her. This pain was the worst, so intense it was a palpable thing that he suffered with her every time she wept.

And she wouldn't let him help.

He couldn't touch her like he longed to do, place his arms around her and hold her until the storm of her weeping was past. He felt that if he just could get close enough she might find peace.

Camen was a solitary fellow that had always taken love where he could find it, when he could get it. Auntie had teased him that he was lucky he hadn't sired any kids on the side from his numerous exploits. But a lot of the guys in town were that way and no one thought much about it. You settled down when you met "the right girl". And no one in town had been right enough for him. When it came down to it they all wanted him too much because of his status as a hunter. Himself as lead hunter, the head farmer and any male doctors were in high demand because of their skills. He had gotten used to any female throwing herself at him in an attempt to seduce him into marriage. And then Elly had come along.

She was so stubborn, so full of pain yet still possessed such a dry wit that he couldn't help but be delighted with her. And she fought him. She had bitten him twice, scratched his arms, face and back and slapped his cheek (almost always on the one with the scar as if it was a target). He couldn't help wonder if she was this passionate in her anger what would she be like if she succumbed to his questionable charms?

Since he had waited so long these feelings were hitting him very hard. He longed to take care of Elly and the baby inside her. Something about the damn woman sparked this instinctive nature inside him, a protective desire that was so strong he could do nothing to suppress it. And despite her own indeterminable will she needed him - enough, perhaps, to make things possible between them. He wanted her willing love, not just acquiescence. That was going to be ...difficult. Difficult but worth it. Camen sighed again, opened his eyes and forced a smile on his features.

He was strong enough.

"El?" He bunched his arms and pushed himself up to a half-sitting position. The crying had ceased but now the silence made him leery. More likely she had cried herself into a half-doze like he had witnessed a few times already since they had begun sharing his home but it was better to be safe than sorry. He got up and walked to the door.

"Hey."

"Go _away_."

"You know me better than that by now, right?"

He heard her growl and laughed gently despite himself. "All right. No breaking down doors." It cracked open and he pushed inside. "I'm sorry."

"How could you say that?"

"I'm sorry," he repeated wearily. "I - it's just that if you were mine I wouldn't have let you go. For anything."

"I'm not," she said. "And you can't understand."

"No," he agreed. "You're not. And I can't because I don't know everything that happened." He held up a hand. "If you want to tell me you will. Maybe. But I won't say anything bad about him again, okay?"

"Promise?"

"I do."


	32. Hormonal Cocktail

Elly sighed. Laundry day was even more of a chore now that everything had to be washed by hand. The scrubbing took awhile and she had to hang the clothes in the kitchen to dry. Camen had lines strung up on one side where the water could drip faintly on the cool slate floor without damaging anything. She was thinking hard as she set the basket down and got out the clothes pins. Susan had given her many books on pregnancy to read over the winter and Elly was disturbed by what many of them told her about her hormones. The cravings were something all women sort of knew about, common knowledge. The sexual urges, however, were not.

She frowned and shook out one of his shirts.

Elly tried to make herself believe what the print told her - that it was all due to a chemical cocktail provided by her condition -- but it was difficult. She was almost stifled by the rushes of desire. They were so random, for one, and she never knew when she would catch herself staring at the white-haired hunter and wondering what kind of man he was in bed or what he looked like without his pants on. This kind of thought always led to an insane amount of guilt and she felt bad for even considering the notion.

The problem was she would be staring at him again moments later.

The pale, purple-haired woman sighed and let the piece of clothing she held fall back into the basket with the other clothing. She heard a noise and turned to see what he was doing. The lean, tall man she was spending the winter with was working out in front of the fire. He had a set schedule of aerobics and some sort of strength workout that he alternated between, never skipping a single day. He was stripped to the waist wearing a pair of loose-fitting green sweatpants purchased at some point from their color-haired trader. Camen was currently around half a set of push-ups when he breathed hard, bounced up on a single arm and held the other behind him. She watched, amazed, as he continued without losing a beat. She didn't know how long she neglected her wet laundry before he seemed to feel her eyes on him. He slowly lifted his head and stared right back at her. She saw him blink, then look down at his semi nude body, sweating with the strain of his workout. His lips slowly curved into a sly, seductive smile.

Elly shook her head. "No, oh no. I was staring in disgust."

"Really?" He was still holding himself up on one hand. " _That's_ disgust?"

"You look like a white shag rug or something." She thrust her jaw out as she pointed at his chest. The tall man picked himself up with fluid grace and walked over, setting his big hands on her laundry basket.

"So," he murmured, "Exactly how much do I 'disgust' you?"

"Are all the men here so hairy?"

"I asked you a question, I believe." He lifted his ponytail and fanned his neck. He shaved every morning with a straight-razor but for some reason he had let his sideburns grow all the way out, stopping only just before his chin. They were furry and gave him more of a Tarzan look than an elf. "You answer mine, I answer yours. Isn't that fair?"

"A lot," she said dryly, crossing her arms and glaring at him.

"Really?"

"All those scars, the fuzzy white hair..."

"Nmm." He leaned closer towards her, his eyes half-lidded but intent under long eyelashes. "So I'm _very_ disgusting?"

"Stop trying to be cute," Elly griped.

"And I'm _cute_ , too?" His eyes widened innocently. "When did that happen?"

He felt it was worth the slap he received just to see her blush. She stalked off to the bathroom and he smiled and hung the rest of the laundry up for her. When she came back her comments turned even more acidic and he laughed to himself, knowing that he'd pleased her and she didn't know how to handle it.


	33. Like Talking to a Brick Wall

James peered around the corner of the room. He wasn't too thrilled about what he saw but he was determined to go through with this. Blue smoke from his uncle's cigar twirled about the ceiling above the man as he sat in a chair nearby. His aunt was firmly seated on the couch with a stack of bridal magazines nearby and papers scattered about. She looked up in some surprise as he knocked gently on the door.

"Why hello, dear! What a pleasant surprise."

_Super. At least one of us thinks it's going to be fun_. He walked further into the sitting room and squared his shoulders. The effect would have come off better if he had been only slightly taller and more built, but he tried anyway.

"I came to talk to you about the," he grit his teeth and barged on, "wedding."

"Oh?" Lorrie looked up, eyes alight. She tapped several pamphlets and magazines on her lap. "Taking an interest at last? I've sent for a fabulous tailor for your suit, and called the restaurant at ..."

"No," James interrupted. "I didn't mean it that way. I want to put it off."

"Not again." She sighed. "James, we've had this discussion several times already. You must produce an heir and to do that you must be married."

"I really don't have to be married to do that, you know." He pointed this out somewhat bitterly and Lorrie grimaced.

"Be reasonable," she murmured. "You know what has been expected of you since you were born."

"That doesn't mean it has to happen right now or so fast!" He struggled to remain calm, running a hand through his short blue hair. He licked his lips and glanced off to the side, but saw immediately that his uncle would be no help here. Lorrie was as immovable a force as the mountains his love had fled to. James couldn't reach the mountains and he certainly couldn't reach his aunt.

Still, he tried.

"Just put it off. Can you do that, at least? Maybe later, a year from now or something I'll be able to see things your way. But Aunt Lorrie, I just lost the girl I loved. You're expecting me to marry this other one immediately? That's ... can't you see how horrible that is?" He knelt down before her in his distress on the thick carpet as he plead his case.

"No, dear," she said firmly, placing a hand on his wrist. "That's why you need to do this right away. Let's get you safely married so it never happens again and you have something to occupy your mind."

"Please," he begged wearily. "I'm being reasonable, can't you see that? I didn't say no like I did the other times we talked. I just want some more time to heal." But even that didn't work. She shook her head stubbornly and he got up, his eyes filled with sorrow.

"You'll thank me, James," she called out after him as he left.

"I'm not thanking you for chasing Elly away. Will I do that later, too?" He left before he could hear her answer. He was sure he knew what it would be anyway.

"You're moving too fast, Lor," Johnathan Colorford murmured. He tapped a cigar briefly in an ashtray at his side.

"Hush, Jon. I know what I'm doing. If we leave him to himself he'll never marry ... and what's worse, he might try and be with another commoner." She shuddered. "The scandal! We barely escaped that last one. Thank goodness the girl had some sense."

"Didn't you ever think there was a possibility that she loved him?" He frowned.

Lorrie waved a meaty hand in her husband's direction. "What? A purple understand the noblest family in the region? I truly doubt that they had anything in common. You're joking."

"Yes," he sighed. "To you, I must be joking. Still... poor James. Can't you drag the engagement out or something to give him the time he needs?"

"No!" Her lips tightened. "I will not sit back and let him get into trouble again!"

Johnathan shook his head sadly. "All I'm saying is you're rushing the boy."

"Nonsense." Lorrie settled deeper into the cushions and held a magazine in front of her face, signifying that she was through talking to him as well.


	34. Midnight Doubts

He woke in the middle of the night, alert at the sound of sobbing from the bed across the room from his. The problem was he wasn't sure how to handle this sort of situation. He was strong and he knew how to fight, had helped other people when they first came to the village and gotten them settled in. She was different not only by her sex but by her importance to him.

It was unsettling.

Camen laid in bed for several minutes until he was certain her heartbroken weeping wouldn't stop. He pushed back the covers and swung himself out of bed, padding barefoot over to where Elly tossed and turned.

"Hey," he murmured.

"Oh!" She jumped then swore so violently at him that he blanched.

"Whoa. Where did you learn all those words?"

"Leave me alone," she snapped.

"Okay - listen to this, right?" He knelt by her bedside. "Whether you like it or not we're living together for some time." Camen paused and when she didn't speak (or more importantly, hit him) he went on.

"What was his full name?"

"What?" She raised her tear-streaked face from the pillow.

"Talk to me. Maybe it'll help."

"I can't say!" She looked shocked.

"Why not? It's not like he was the Head Primary or anything, right?" Camen laughed. Then he pursed his lips as silence blossomed in the stillness of the bedroom. "Uh, right?"

"Let's go to sleep," she muttered.

"You never said what James," he choked as the truth crashed in on him all at once. "Elly, was it James _Colorford?!_ " A small sound escaped her and her eyes widened as they filled with tears. She turned her back on him, burying her face in the pillow and crying again.

"Holy shit," he gasped. "You could have had everything. You left that? I thought it was just some regular color, not, well, him."

"Wrong." Her voice was so cold he barely recognized it. "I couldn't have everything."

"No, of course not. I'm sorry." He swallowed and looked around the dark room as he tried to think of something comforting or witty to say.

_Think, you moron!_ All that kept running through his head was the obvious reasons the primary hadn't come with her. He'd blamed James and now he felt stupid for doing so. Of course he couldn't leave his situation; there would be chaos if the man in charge of all the Houses left to be with a commoner.

"It's all right," she said darkly.

"No, it's not!" He shook his head, white hair swinging. "I said and thought all sorts of crappy things. It's my fault for that. I ..."

His mind warred with itself and then he suddenly knew. Camen took a deep breath. "He must love you very much. I'm sorry I doubted that." A stifled sob came from the lumpy sheets. The big man swallowed hard and stood up. "I don't anymore." As he was turning back towards his bed, however, she ripped the covers back and flung herself at him. Camen spun quickly and caught her more by instinct than anything else.

"I do! How _can_ he love me? He let me go, Camen! He never tried to even reach me up here!"

_Ahhhh. There it is._

He didn't say another word for fear of making things worse somehow. But he did hold her in his strong arms while she cried. She wailed for several minutes until a bout of hiccups forced her to stop. The spell of grief combined with painful gulping left her weak and confused, thankfully tired enough to rest again. He sighed as he tucked her into bed, making sure she was covered with the blanket as well as a quilt. It was cold tonight and she needed all the comfort she could get.


	35. Goodbye

It was a crisp winter morning in Colorford. The air made Ophelia's nose tingle pleasantly when she breathed deeply in. The blue-haired teenager smiled. The commoner's houses below the estates burned wood in the cold weather to help with the rising energy costs and she loved the smell that rode along the wind. Riding helmet in one mittened hand, she walked across her house to her cousin's. He had the best course and she'd thought it would be pleasant to have a trot around before classes.

"James? You okay?" Filly poked her head around the corner. She'd been ready to dash around the gravel path to the stables when she saw he was sitting out on the porch by himself. That was odd.

"Hi, Filly." He smiled at her gently and held an arm out. She went uneasily to his side and he hugged her. "I'm fine."

"Why're you sitting out here in the cold?"

"I kind of like it. I had to find someplace to think." He shrugged. "Besides, I'm bundled up." He frowned a little as he stared down at the expensive woolen coat he wore. Filly toyed with the ends of her scarf for a moment, knowing what was on his mind.

"Listen," she blurted out, "I thought maybe we could both talk to mom and ..."

"Oh, no." He turned to face her, his blue eyes behind the light glasses oddly sincere. "It's all right. Your mother wants me to marry for the good of the blood line. It's one of my responsibilities."

"James..?" She started to feel very nervous. "You're just giving in all of a sudden?"

"I can't get away from it, can I?" His smile was only slightly bitter. "Go for your ride, Ophelia. Have fun."

"Well..." She shook her head. Something was wrong but she didn't know what to do.

_Let's face it_ , she thought sadly. _Everything is wrong for him now. That's why it feels this way._

She sighed and tucked her helmet more firmly under her arm. "We'll talk more when I get back, then."

His smile grew more gentle. "Goodbye, Filly."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Later, James." The young aristocrat watched her walk off until she turned the corner of the mansion and was gone. Then he straightened, grimacing as his knees popped, and went back into the house. He only paused to wipe off the fog on his glasses before he went on up to his bedroom. The camcorder he had set up stood in a corner. He'd been making videos for a few days now and he felt it was time for the biggest one of all. He tapped the button on the side, checked it then nodded when he saw the light blinking at him.

"So, here we go." James sighed wearily as he pulled up a chair. His golden skin was pale and wan-looking. The only color were his cheeks that were reddened from being outside recently. "I've made a lot of these but this one is the toughest. It's obvious what this is by now, right? It's my final goodbye to you."

He stared into the blinking light.

"I love you, Elly Sketchit. Never think that I didn't. I was too beaten, too well trained to break tradition. I wanted to go after you, to be with you. I really did. But everyone assured me they would bring me back - by force, if necessary -- and I couldn't bear the thought of anyone getting hurt because of me. Especially you."

James raised his eyebrows and sniffed, trying to hold back his tears so he could be heard clearly. They flowed anyway and he reached up and wiped his face with a shaking hand. His glasses bumped up and he had to readjust them for a moment while he regained composure.

"If you ever come back I've left all I could to you. Filly is the recipient who will hold my house and everything in it except a few belongings and files that my aunt and uncle will need to keep the place running." He smiled wearily. "I know she'll be true to me, to you. She'll be in charge after I'm gone anyway. I only regret that if you do come back the first time you meet her will be under such circumstances. I left more for you: letters I wrote, a few videos so you don't," he choked then went on, "you don't forget me. She'll pass them on to you in time. Please don't cry for me if - when -- you find out. I'll be waiting for you, that's all. We'll be together again."

James added more personal things he had wanted to say and then switched tapes, starting with the same "goodbye" message. After that, however, his demeanor changed, eyes hardening and his voice taking on a flinty note of challenge.

"Aunt Lorrie. Thank you for frightening away the one woman I ever loved. And ...I'm so ashamed to say I could have lived with that, I think I could have. I'm weak and I knew what had to be done for us all. But then you tried to rip away what little comfort I took in thinking that I might stay faithful to her."

"I'm serious." He paused and stared directly at the camera. " No one will force me into a political marriage. I should have realized that you'd try to." He passed a trembling hand over his face. But when the hand was gone he was smiling in such a way that they hadn't seen him in weeks. His sapphire eyes sparkled with a kind of wild joy and his voice trembled when he went on.

"Guess what? I found some strength after all. Maybe Uncle John'll be proud of me for that. Maybe you'll be sorry you didn't listen to him a little. But you didn't listen to any of us."

He stood and walked to his desk where a locked drawer had always kept his most precious item safe since that fateful day. Reaching inside he took out the framed photo and walked back, holding it out gravely. It was a picture of him with the purple-haired woman. They were holding each other and smiling. He even remembered the day they had set the camera up to take it; it had been wonderful. So much fun, and love, so much of everything that had been right. He kissed the photo and then sighed again.

"I'm scared," he whispered. "I didn't think I was brave enough for this but it's the only thing that will end it all. And don't cry, Filly," he added in a softer tone. "You were the only one in the family that understood and I think you're the only one that will now, too. Thanks. For everything. I love you, kiddo."

He walked over and stopped the recording. Then he carefully duplicated it and sent it to Mark over the internet as well as leaving a copy in his house and in the drawer he'd taken the photo out of, which he locked again after checking his will to make sure everything was in order. He walked to the side bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet.

"I'm so sorry, my pretty mermaid," he said softly, sagging against the wall in defeat.

When a panicked Filly found him an hour later he had the gentlest smile on his face. Her screams brought the staff running as fast as they could for phones, doctors and medical kits but it was far too late. James Colorford was gone. He'd taken an entire bottle of sleeping pills and laid on top of his bed, holding the framed photo close to his heart.


	36. Camen's Realization

Camen was woken out of a sound sleep by a loud thump. His gray eyes snapped open immediately, scanning the bedroom quickly along the far side where his guest for the winter slept.

She wasn't in bed.

That alone wouldn't make him nervous, of course. She got up a lot in the middle of the night and in the morning especially now, but that had been a loud noise he had heard. He whipped the sheets back and sprang out lightly, more alert than before. One hand caught his long white hair as it fell about his face and twisted the braided locks on the side together so it hung out of his way. He wore thick wool pajamas, a shirt and pants of the same charcoal hue with pockets that he absently stuck his hands into when he peered around the corner.

"Damn it." He heard her groan coming from the bathroom and padded along until he reached the doorway in the wan morning light. He found Elly slumped along the wall, holding her elbow and grimacing.

"Shit! Did you fall?"

"I got dizzy," the pale woman grudgingly admitted. "I sort of caught myself before I went all the way down." She was still dazed enough to let him slip a strong arm around her middle and didn't complain when he walked her back to her rumpled bed.

"You have to be more careful," he murmured.

"I am," she snapped, wrestling her arm out from his gentle grip. He shook his head.

"No," he said firmly. "You're not. You don't want my help and maybe you're trying to do things you shouldn't be doing by yourself."

"I had to go to the bathroom," she hissed sarcastically, tucking locks of purple hair behind her ears. "You want to help with that?" She twisted around in bed to glare at him.

"If you can't do it yourself, yeah." Camen winced obligingly when she swore. "I know you liked to swim but is there any chance you were a sailor in a past life or something?"

Elly made a face. "What do you want, blood?" He followed her with his eyes as she ran a hand angrily through her sleep-ruffled hair and rolled away from him.

"I want to help you." He sat down on the edge of the bed, crossing his arms with the air of a man that has plans to sit for awhile.

"Damn it. All right. I promise."

"Okay." He paused. "I'm sorry I'm not the right guy, but you're gonna have to put up with me. I'll try not to be a total asshole, all right?"

"Too late, you're already an asshole," she sniffed.

"Flattery gets you nowhere," he replied loftily, placing a hand over his heart. "Uh, anyway. Did you hurt your arm?"

"It's not bad."

"Elly."

" _Camen._ " She almost perfectly matched his intonation and he stared down at her in exasperation.

"Is it the pregnancy or were you always a little bitch?" He snickered when she tried to smack his arm from a backwards position. "All right. Go back to sleep. I'm gonna go make breakfast. I'll wake you if you're not up when it's done."

"You don't hafta do that." Her voice was already fuzzy as she grew warmer under the blankets and quilt. He'd pulled it up over her when she was swearing at him before.

"You're right, I don't. But I will."

"Mmm." She dropped off between one breath and the next, snoring lightly almost as soon as she fell asleep. The big man waved a hand in front of her face a couple times to make sure she was really out and then gently reached inside to take hold of her arm. Her elbow was a little scraped but didn't seem too bad. If that was the only mishap they had all winter he'd be glad but now he knew he would worry at least a little. Camen shrugged, sighed, and went back out into the main room to see about fixing food and coffee. He thought a lot about accidents as he went about his business. They didn't all have to be terrible. His lips twisted into a wry smile as he slapped pieces of thick bacon into a pan before the fire. He'd accidentally fallen in love with her, after all.


	37. Joyous Yule

They had food and water from the snow and their stores in abundance. There was also plenty of firewood for heat so they were snug, safe, and warm inside Camen's home. And even so something was bothering Elly again. The white-haired hunter had been acting strange for almost an entire week now. At first she assumed that her expanding waistline was upsetting him but she soon found that wasn't the case because he still flirted outrageously with her. He just wasn't around as much. He was spending an awful lot of time in the cellar and while she liked the peace and quiet it was somewhat nerve-wracking. She didn't pay much attention to the days marked on the calendar except to mark her progress in her pregnancy journal, so when she woke one day to the scent of pine and cinnamon she was startled.

_She suddenly knew what day it was._

Elly sat up in bed and looked towards the door where the warm glow of the main room's fire beckoned. She slipped out of bed and put on her robe and fur-lined shoes, padding into a surprisingly well-decorated wonderland. The big man she was wintering with was sitting in his robe by the fire, a mug of coffee in his hands. He didn't move or speak when she entered, letting her look around in silent amazement. Although they were snowed in he had obviously been outside to get a small tree, which meant he'd had to tunnel through goodness knew how much snow. The tree was strung with dried fruit, strings of nuts and ribbons that shone in the light of the dancing fire. Underneath he'd spread a plaid cloth and there were a few plain, brown paper-wrapped presents.

Elly's throat closed up.

Instead of crying she glanced around hurriedly, trying to focus on other aspects of his surprise. She found many. The table was spread with breakfast already - something she normally attended to as her job -- and he had arranged pine cones and a few branches of the pine tree he'd cut as a centerpiece flanked by two unlit candles. He'd made a fresh kill while he was outside as well and the carcass was cleaned, seasoned and on the spit, ready to roast all day so they could have meat in time for dinner.

She placed a hand in front of her mouth and shook her head, her purple hair swaying. It had grown in the time that she had spent in the village and she hadn't tied it back when she woke. The thick locks annoyed her but she didn't want to cut her own hair yet. She had taken to yanking it back with a piece of rough twine or something since she'd never thought to bring any hair products. The strands got in her mouth and she spat them with a slight grimace as she toddled in shock towards Camen.

"She wakes." He got up and placed a hand over his heart, not quite bowing. He knew she didn't like to be touched so he made no move to embrace her or even hold her hand to spoil the moment. "Joyous Yule, Elly."

"I ... didn't even remember," she whispered. "You, too."

"The coffee's here," he smiled, pointing at the pot on the low table in front of the couch. "I hope you don't mind, I added a few things to it. I always do for the holiday."

She sat beside him and poured herself a cup. The brew was rich and flavorful, liberally sprinkled with cinnamon. "Hmmm."

"Good?"

"Yes, very." She sighed and sipped slowly, trying to come up with something to say.

"You don't have to."

Elly cocked her head at him. "What?"

"Don't have to say anything." Camen refilled his cup. "I know this has been very tough for you. I notice people say it's hard enough moving up to the mountains without everything you're used to but you..." He trailed off. They sat in silence for a little while longer while the fire crackled and popped. The tree kept drawing her attention. It was more beautiful than any she had seen or had before and she finally told him this.

"Is it?" He seemed surprised but clearly pleased.

"I don't know why. It just is."

"I think you were meant to live here," he laughed gently. "You accept everything so easily and find beauty in what others think is inconvenient. Wait, that reminds me." He got down on the floor and crawled to the tree. She giggled despite herself at seeing the huge muscled man shuffle around and he looked up with a happy shine in his gray eyes.

"Did you just laugh?"

"No," she said, completely deadpan. He let out a gust of air and she laughed again, richer this time at his disgruntled expression.

"Don't feel bad but I have a few gifts for you."

"Camen, if I'd known..."

"Oh, shut up and open them." He came back to the couch with the small armful. "I'm nervous enough already!"

She set down her cup and obliged him.

The first, smallest one was a set of leather and fur ties for her hair, much like the ones he wore but these were braided with beads. She thanked him warmly, stunned by the fact that he'd seen what she needed and took note of it. The second was a couple of fur bands for her arm just like the ones he sometimes wore. She'd always admired them and he'd remembered that as well.

The third and last was the largest. While she fussed with the paper she noticed he was fidgeting, his hands running through his hair over and over again as he watched. The wrapping fell away and she sat there for almost a full minute, feeling the sting of tears prick her eyes. It was a fist-sized wooden carving of a fish, lovingly detailed and polished to perfection. He'd carefully rounded all the corners off and nothing was sharp or dangerous which was good because it was a child's toy. The fish sat on a wooden block with wheels - a pull toy for small hands attached to a rawhide thong that was heavily reinforced.

He reached out and lightly touched it.

"I thought, you know, you liked to fish and swim..." He groped for words and then dropped the rest of what he was floundering to say when she sobbed softly.

"That's why you were in the cellar. And your hands were bandaged."

He hung his head shyly, chuckling. "I'm not that good with a knife for whittling, like my da' used to say. I cut better on tough hide. But I hope this is all right."

"It's perfect." She hesitated, then leaned over and laid her head on his arm. His cheeks flushed bright red and he held his breath until he saw little spots in front of his eyes.

"You don't have to wear the bands if you don't want," he went on. "I know it's kind of cheesy, but they have my family's mark on them and it might seem like, you know..." He faltered along then stopped, shrugging. She looked at him steadily and then at the pretty fur wraps, the pelts soft and patterned with what looked like a runic brand in the center. Without changing expression she reached out and slipped her robe off her shoulders, carefully attaching one to her arm.

Camen's mouth dropped open in complete and utter amazement.

"Thank you," she murmured.


	38. Time to be Happy Again?

There were others in the village that had wanted him, some more attractive than she. He still didn't understood exactly why he was drawn to her the way he was. Sad, pregnant and alone, she'd managed to make it here and never once apologized for her actions. She'd done everything the way she wanted to and had done it to protect the man she loved. 'Stubborn little thing', he'd called her many times and that was true. But it was that very tenacity despite her abounding sorrow that made him want her. Camen was brutally torn, confused beyond belief. It had been better before when she had been giving him nothing but red flags. He'd at least known how to proceed then. Now she hovered between being kind to him - almost warm sometimes. He didn't want to miss an opportunity yet was afraid of rushing her.

"I'm wondering," he yawned as they sat comfortably before the fire a couple of nights after the holiday.

"Oh boy."

"I know some stuff about you but well, not a lot..."

"And?"

"Well, I wanted to know more about you. Is that so bad?" He cast an innocent gaze at her. Elly shrugged, a movement slightly hindered by the blanket she'd draped around herself.

"You really want to know how many guys I've dated or slept with, don't you?"

"Damn, you're blunt." He ran a hand through his long hair, popping the rawhide thong free so he could hide his sheepish grin in the flowing white locks. "No way. I'm a gentleman, remember?"

"Riiight. You know I'm not a virgin," she said sarcastically, staring down at her expanded waistline. Camen ducked his head, laughing ruefully.

"I really wasn't asking that. All right, I was sort of curious, I won't lie. But I wasn't leading up to it or anything. Trust me."

"I've only dated two guys and had sex with one." She made a face.

"You want to tell me this." Camen looked baffled. He really hadn't been asking about her romantic life and here she was laying it out on the table before him. "Why?"

"To get it out of the way, maybe." She was frowning. "I don't know, I just do! I've had sex but I'm not a whore or anything. Maybe I wanted you to know - all right, shut up. I know you know," Elly grunted when he opened his mouth to protest.

"Maybe you wanted me to know you're not experienced for several reasons," he said with a smile.

"What other reasons could I possibly have other than I don't want people to think badly of me?"

"You tell me." He leaned closer, his gray eyes intent.

"Maybe you should enlighten me about your escapades." Elly snorted and pushed the blanket down, spreading it across her lap. She felt warm all of a sudden.

"It's true that I have ... experience," he murmured, scooting close beside her and leaning towards her neck. "That could make things much more pleasant in the long run for us both, though." He carefully placed one arm around her. Elly frowned, pulling at the blanket she held more roughly. Camen's breath was warm on the side of her face and she could sense him all around her.

"Us?" She flinched. "I thought you weren't going to do that."

"Not do what?"

"Hit on me." Her voice had a hard edge to it. "You know I don't - I don't think it's right."

"Think it's right?" The hunter flashed a grin on his noticeably darker face. His cheeks burned from his flirting. "You didn't say 'I don't want' this time."

"I don't want," Elly snapped. "There, satisfied?" She made as if to jump up and he caught her about the waist gently as she did.

"No," he said, his expression serious for once. "Not when you lie to me."

"Stop it," she hissed, trying to escape him without making too much fuss.

"Tell me." He settled her back down beside him by pulling lightly, urging her to sit. She relented after a bit and sank back down onto the couch.

"What do you want?"

"The truth," he said quietly, his gray eyes boring into her own. "You value honesty and I know you won't lie. Would you like me to kiss you?" His free hand came up, the rough pads of his fingertips gently grazing her lips.

He almost felt bad for her.

Her throat constricted violently as she struggled with the question, her dark eyes darting this way and that as she tried to find some way out of the situation he'd boxed her into. She had showed him she was past most of it by responding to him differently in a manner of subtle ways since the holiday. He knew she wouldn't take the first step because she would feel guilty so it was up to him to force the issue. He also realized that he might only get this one chance before she grew distant with him again.

Camen decided it was time for her to be happy again.

His fingers rubbed delicately at her lower lip, parting her mouth before he bent over and lightly kissed her. The touch was brief and he immediately let go afterward, watching carefully as she weaved back in forth in an agony of self-conflicting emotions.

"I'm a horrible kisser, aren't I?" He mourned in jest. "I can't blame you if you want to slap me. Here, I'll even offer up a cheek." He turned his face towards her and pursed his lips.

"I..." Elly frowned harder as she stared at the sideburns. She'd wanted to touch them for awhile now and she clenched her hand into a fist instead, resisting the urge to pet them and see if they were as soft as they looked. She shook her head.

"Or would you prefer another kind? I may like that, I warn you. I'm a little on the kinky side. 'Course that's not a bad thing in the long run, is it?"

Elly shook her head more violently as if trying to clear it. She spoke a name that wasn't his under her breath as if reminding herself. As she did he saw the pain and suffering that had diminished slightly haunt her pale features again. He frowned. Didn't she want to be happy?

"Did you forget my name?" He asked innocently, deciding that the best route would be to joke past the tension. He took her face in both hands and smiled down at her. "Oh, dear. That's terribly sad. The dashing young man so devoted to you and the little one right here -" He held a hand over her stomach -- "is named Camen."

"You ass," she whispered. "I'm scared."

"Oh? Of what? Are you still afraid of me?"

"No, you just piss me off." She stared at him defiantly when he chuckled.

"But that was a very sweet kiss from someone who is angry. Or perhaps it seemed so because I didn't get my face clawed off like I thought would happen." He coughed. "You can't run from me, you can't hide. I'll always be there."

"That's so comforting," she said sourly, seeming to shake off the effects of his kiss.

"I'm the best hunter in the village, remember? I don't give up when I find something I want. And I _really_ want you." He bent forward again, his white hair tickling her cheeks as he drew close. Her mind kept screaming at her that she was betraying a memory but her body was traitorous, responding to his mouth on hers and his hand around her shoulders pulling her close. She finally shuddered and palmed the back of his neck, shifting around so she would be under his body. She even gave in and lightly touched his cheeks, running her fingers through the shaggy hair. It was rougher than the soft white strands on his head but more interesting to play with. Camen was as still as he could be for a long time but when Elly's fingers traced the scar under his left cheek he saw something different in her eyes. He sighed shakily and touched his forehead to hers.

"W- wait," she husked, sensing what was to come.

"Not yet," he growled under his breath, speaking more to himself than her. "I'm only going to kiss you, just... let me kiss you." He gasped and fell upon her, his kisses light but many - so very many. His mouth rubbed on hers, his flickering tongue careful to stay on her lips instead of pushing between them. When Camen finally released her he found her staring at him, her eyes wide and filled with a curious mixture of hope and guilt. He gently separated himself from her and they didn't speak for the rest of the night. It was a strange silence, uncomfortable in a way. Yet the big man was glad for the quiet because he sensed tomorrow might be very noisy.


	39. Guilt

Filly sat at the edge of her bed, her eyes red from weeping.

She was too tired for more tears right now and that was a good thing because she had to go through James' personal belongings again. She had a few boxes beside her and she looked over at them with a curious blank expression.

_That one_ , she thought. That was the one that would go to Elly if she ever came back. He'd made it very clear that certain tapes and pictures along with a sizable portion of his savings would go to the woman he'd loved. The money was nothing to the Colorford family and the teenager sensed it wouldn't be anything to her, either, when she found out he was gone. She covered the box and set it aside, pulled another one towards her. This one had riding trophies in it.

She picked them up one by one, letting the soft morning sunlight streaming through the window shine on each as she turned them in her hands. The silver and gold shone brightly, prettily, mocking her with all the beautiful glittering. She stood and placed them all next to her couple on the shelf above her desk, lining them neatly in a row. Filly hadn't been riding for some time now. She just didn't have the heart for it.

The truth was, every time she even thought about saddling up a wave of nausea would sweep over her and she would have to sit down until it passed, lowering her head so her massive wealth of vibrant blue hair fell over and touched the floor.

If only she hadn't gone riding that day.

Miles and miles away in the snow-covered mountains Elly was struggling with her own crushing guilt.

The day after their session on the couch had started out on a different note, stiff and awkward between them at first. It was almost like when they had first met and she'd closed herself off completely to him. Camen made a few light-hearted comments now and then, not really expecting her to reply. He felt the need to try, however, so he kept up a conversation all during breakfast until she set her coffee cup down and glared at him.

"What?" He paused, gray eyes wide and innocent. "Did I say something?"

"You won't shut up!" She snapped. "Maybe I don't feel like talking right now, Camen! I feel like shit, if you really want to know, and part of it's your fault!"

"Please stop yelling at me." He spoke in a little-boy voice and she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

"Who'm I supposed to yell at?!" Elly took a deep breath and unclenched her fists. "Okay. All right. I just feel so guilty." She pushed her chair back and began picking up the empty plates.

"It was only some kisses. But then again I suppose I'd think less of you if you didn't." Despite her outburst he came quickly to her side, even reaching around to help with the dishes. "Don't get me wrong, I want you to feel comfortable with what we have."

"You're suggesting 'we' have something at all." She scrubbed ferociously and he couldn't help but smile.

"Point taken," he murmured. "I'll counter with the fact that you seemed to like what happened yesterday. Listen, all I'm saying is I understand love isn't something you can just rip off and transfer to someone else when you want to. Like, love, lust, everything's different. I'm not judging you or asking what you think about us."

"I think it's just hormones," she said stiffly. "The books Sue gave me said I'd be this way."

"Oh? Why didn't those same hormones make you want Justin then? I saw the fork-holes in his hand." He chuckled.

"Idiot," she snarled. "He ... oh. All right, I see what you're getting at."

"Mm-hmm." Camen began to dry what she'd set aside. "A day at a time," he drawled lazily. "That's what it's all about here in the mountains. Survival isn't as easy as down there I'm told, but no one'll ever convince me that a white's life isn't more colorful."

"Is that a pun?"

"Nah. It just came out that way. Y'know, I meant to ask you something yesterday. Not what you thought I wanted to ask but something different."

"What?"

"You never said anything about my hair. Ever. Didn't it - wasn't it -- well, strange? To see someone with no pigment at all?"

"Was it weird to see me?"

"Of course not," he said cheerfully, "but we see people with colored hair sometimes. You never did."

"I like it." She stared boldly up at him. First had come grief, then anger mixed with the bouts of sadness. Right now she was tired of anything having to do with color at all and his white hair attracted her more than anything. He was a good man despite his not having any pigment.

"Ha," he waggled a finger at her. "You like it because you're mad at society now. It fucked you over and now you want the complete opposite of what every good girl knows is decent, right, the pure colors?"

She made a face. "I wish you wouldn't do that when you're right. It makes me feel so ridiculous."

"What, the finger?" He stared at it in some surprise. "It's a bad habit. Mrs. Johnson at the schoolhouse does it to all the kids. I started doing it way back to piss her off and it kinda stuck with me."

"It pisses me off, too." He laughed, reached out and touched her lower lip with that very finger.

"You're like a little teapot, always right on the verge of going off. I sometimes wonder if it's the pregnancy but I'm guessing it's not all of it."

"I shouldn't have -"

"Did you want to?"

"What?" Her hair caught in her mouth as she spun about to face him, shocked. Her hands were wet from the water she'd washed in but he grasped her wrists and pulled them up before him regardless. Droplets splashed on his plain white shirt, blossoming into water stains as she watched, distracted.

"Did I force you somehow? Would you prefer if I left you alone?" Camen blinked when he saw tears build up in the corners of her eyes. He'd expected an angry reaction, not this.

Elly bit her lower lip and tried to look away but he followed her, ducking his head down. "Stop it."

"No, I'm serious. You'll get one chance now - don't stop to think." He paused then blurted out, "Do you want me to go away and never see you again?"

"We're snowed in, you ass!" She wrenched back and forth in his grip but he was stronger than she was.

"Yes?"

"No! You'll go away anyway. Everyone does." She broke down at that and wept freely while he felt an embarrassed flush creeping up his neck. "Everyone does," she repeated brokenly as he swept her into his arms.

"I'm sorry," he sighed. "I shouldn't have pushed you like that. You just - you have to see that it's not your fault. Nothing is your fault. You made some decisions that might have been made differently is all. Hey. Hey."

"Wha?" Her voice was muffled against his chest.

"I'm not going anywhere."


	40. Nice Try

Camen Couslan sat on the couch before a glowing fireplace re-braiding a thong that held one of his knife sheaths to his belt. His fingers moved slowly, carefully, but his mind was elsewhere. What could he do, what should he say? He knew she wanted him already, was certain of it. But he understood that casual sex wasn't what he wanted from this relationship. It wasn't just that he'd gotten enough or grown tired of it - although he had -- he was sure of that. Camen had slept with most of the younger females in the village he'd taken a fancy to. He had, in fact, won over all the girls he had ever wanted except this one. It was fascinating, exciting, exhilarating and, well, scary as hell.

"Crap." He sighed deeply, chuckling as the air expelled from him in a huge gust. That was it; he was afraid. The big man that had carved off a chunk of his own leg to escape a snake and once wrestled with a rather large wolf was horrified that he might make the wrong move and push her away again. Worse yet, he might hurt her somehow. She had assured him they were friends; more than that they seemed at times to share a very real bond that went beyond what he'd experienced with anyone else. If he screwed that up...

He looked up from the cord he held and stood quietly, shoving the leather strip in his shirt pocket. She'd gone into the other room a few minutes ago and the steady creak of the rocking chair had suddenly stopped. Elly sat disconsolately under the light of the oil lamp in the bedroom with an unread book in her lap. She didn't look up as Camen walked in and stood there staring at her for several moments. She could feel his eyes on her, though, and after awhile she sighed and closed the book with a snap.

"Done already?" He asked mildly with a crooked grin.

"I wasn't really interested."

"Oh? I couldn't tell." He came and knelt down before her on the woven rug. She blinked. He kept surprising her with little acts like this and she still wasn't sure what to do or say. Camen ignored her confusion and took the book gently from her nerveless fingers, setting it aside.

"What're you doing?" She said irritably.

"Talking to you." He reached out and held her delicate hands in his large, rough ones. "I thought you might want to. It's been a few days since we had our first talk and you're ignoring me again."

"I've been thinking, that's all. Nothing you want would be fair... for you, of course," she added hastily when one of his white eyebrows shot up. "It's not fair for you, you know, it's not right."

"Nice try," he drawled.

"What?!"

"You've hit me, bit me, scratched me and tried telling me 'no' when you meant yes." He turned her palms over and kissed them lightly, causing her to shiver. "Now you want to try reasoning with me."

"Camen, I'm serious here, I'm not right for you..."

"I'll be the judge of that." He spoke firmly, with enough steel in his voice that she shrank back a little from him. "You're not pushing me away, Elly. It's not going to work unless you really don't want me. And I know that's not true. There's a least a little side of you that finds me attractive and I'm your friend." He briefly glanced at the arm band she still wore that he had made her for Yule and smiled again.

She raised her gaze to the ceiling. "Everything feels wrong. I mean, it feels wrong when ..."

"During?" He let go of her hands and stood carefully, bent over so he could be close to her upturned face. "Here, let's test that." He dipped lower and brushed his lips carefully against hers, lingering when she didn't resist.

"...you were thinking how bad that feels?" He murmured. Elly frowned suddenly, her eyes still closed from his kiss. She struggled with the concept, trying to frame it into words.

"Not then," she admitted finally, grudgingly. "Now."

"You need to let go, little one," he said so softly that she almost didn't hear him. The big man's eyes were filled with compassion and when he spoke again his voice throbbed passionately. "Everything you did was your decision. You have to be the one to make this choice, too, or it won't mean anything to you. Do you go on and live now or do you cry and hurt with all the guilt and 'could-have-been's'?"

The young woman's large lavender eyes widened further, shining at him as she looked into his eyes. He couldn't possibly know what she was thinking but he knew it hurt. She panted with distress, trying to hold back tears but never breaking her gaze. Camen let her writhe in pain for what seemed to him to be hours, forcing himself to hold back and not say anything. He merely waited.

She choked a little, opened her mouth, then closed it. "I...don't know what to do."

"Try to let go," he repeated.

"I'll fall," she replied weakly, looking around in desperation, for once not thinking about what she said but speaking directly from the heart. "It's too much."

"I'll catch you. I'm here." This time his words came out a bit shaky. His throat had dried up and his tongue felt too large for his mouth. Scared spitless, he thought ruefully. That's a real sensation, imagine that.

"I can't have him." Camen's head came up sharply. This was what she hadn't admitted. She knew it but she hadn't quite grasped the facts yet. "I ... miss him, I want him here." She sniffed, hung her head. There was an undertone of guilt in her voice as she spoke.

"Don't try to spare my feelings," he murmured. "Let it out. You can't have him." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "But you can have me. Not as a consolation prize," he added quickly when she frowned at him through her tears, "I won't accept that. You're right. But you're not settling for the first asshole who walked by, you're fighting it because you're afraid to love me back."

He winced; he might have gone too far with that last comment. But after a strangled noise she quickly threw herself against him. Camen was flooded with such relief that he felt dizzy as he gathered her in his arms. He buried his face in her purple hair, breathing deeply and stroking her back to soothe the sobbing woman in his embrace. When she started to taper off he picked her up and carried her to her bed.

"Wh- wha-"

"You're a mess." He sat her down and wiped the tears from her face with a corner of his soft flannel shirt. Elly drew in a breath to retort hotly but thought better of it. She supposed she was at that.

"Yeah, probably." She sniffled and rubbed at her eyes briefly. "You bring out the best in me."

"Ah ha ha. Ha ha ha," he said flatly.

She actually giggled. "You're such a strange man."

"Strange? Me?" Camen cocked his head inquisitively, a lock of white hair that had pulled out of his ponytail brushing past his furry cheek. He grunted and impatiently shoved it behind his ear. "I'm just a normal guy. I've got all the normal parts." He leaned close to her.

"You don't do anything like I think you're going - hey!" Her attention jerked back to him as he nuzzled her throat with his nose.

"I've got a nose," he was saying, "two hands..." He reached up and placed a warm palm on her cheek, turning her closer towards him. "A mouth."

"Camen..."

"Mmm?" His eyes were half-lidded now, intent. He set his lips on hers once more but this time halfway through the kiss he whispered, "Tongue," and dared to press further than he ever had. He nudged more insistently and was rewarded with a soft sigh that gave him his desired access.

He lost himself.

When he was a teenager he'd managed to get his hands on some romance novels Auntie Nolan kept in a secluded part of her bedroom and skimmed eagerly through for the "naughty bits". He'd been sorely disappointed when he later saw how idealized they made sex seem and all the parts leading up to it. Sure it was good, but so was Auntie's apple pie. He enjoyed lovemaking like any healthy human did. And yet his blood had never burned with desire or his lips felt that fabled "electric tingle" he'd read so much about in those worn, dog-eared tales. He'd become jaded and was so completely taken aback by the fact that the sensations did exist that he had to stop and place his forehead on hers to catch his breath. His mouth was open, eyes closed as he gasped lightly.

"Camen, are you all right?"

"I'm fine," he whispered. "We'd better get some sleep, though. It's late." He stood and carefully adjusted his jeans, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.

"Yeah." She had been ready and since he'd already placed her on the small bed she pushed the coverlet down and crawled underneath. She swore as the sheets got caught on her ever-expanding belly but he reached out and smoothed them for her.

"Good night," he told her quietly, smiling back when she smiled nervously at him. He looked longingly at his own bed in the other corner of the room. He was suddenly exhausted, but he had to damp down the fireplaces first and then change. He yawned and went about those familiar tasks, hoping they would calm him down ... but in the end was forced to visit the bathroom before he could finally relax enough for sleep.


	41. Caretaker

The driveway was the same, the house looked like it always had from the outside... sort of. Everything was clean, the last of winter's snows still clinging to the grass in front and dripping down the roof in long icicles that were melting in the tentative sunlight. Spring was struggling to come back once more. It should have been beautiful, but something seemed wrong, even to the inexperienced eye. Filly wandered nervously up the gravel walkway leading to the front door carrying a fire proof container the size of a big shoebox. She was still dressed in the darkest shade of blue she could find; though it had been several months she still mourned the loss of her cousin. They'd been almost like brother and sister and his request to her had caused her many sleepless nights. She had to get these items to Elly but she couldn't go to the White Village. That left her friend, the one that owned her house now. But it required opening up and talking about painful subjects she wanted to be over with.

She really didn't want to do this.

A single rap on the door was enough to alert the new occupant. Mark Fuschi swung it open, his purple eyes wide with astonishment at seeing a Blue at his front step. He quickly straightened and tugged the collar of his simple shirt into a more respectable position before looking at her closely. She looked like she'd had a rough time lately. The poor woman's face was splotchy and eyes red from crying. Her dress, however, was silk and immaculate. She also wore a few tasteful pieces of sapphire jewelry. The gems shone brightly against her equally blue hair and Mark was afraid he knew exactly who she was. After all, he'd only seen one Blue with a shade that vibrant.

"How can I help, my Lady?"

"You can drop that, first," she said wryly. "There's no one around to hear and I hate it more than ever now. Can I come in?"

"Sure." He gestured vaguely and she stepped inside, not really seeing much since all she could think about was that James had been here when he was happy, laughing, loving - alive. She sniffled and rubbed angrily at her eyes.

"I won't take too much of your time. I'm here because you're Elly's friend."

"Because...?" Mark ventured. Unlike some, he didn't know too much about the top Color family. He'd never cared that much. But he did see that she must be related to James and he felt the need to step very carefully around her.

"She left you the house. You must have been good friends, and I've got something... what?" She frowned as he snorted.

"I'm not a good friend," he said shortly.

"But..."

"Sure, we were kinda close. Yeah, I got the house." Mark grimaced. "She was my friend and now she's gone. Roughing it up in those brutal mountains while I sit here and enjoy my ill-gotten gains."

"But she wanted you to have it," Filly told him. "It was her decision. We all should maybe have made better ones - " she choked as sickening waves of familiar guilt washed over her again, "but they changed things and they can't be undone."

"All right." He shrugged angrily. "So what do you want?"

"I ..." The young woman hesitated, fidgeting with the hem of her dress. Mark suddenly realized with a start that she was only a teenager. The tragedy in her family had aged her in subtle ways that showed in her mannerisms, but when she fussed awkwardly he could see it clearly. Another victim of that idiot - but no, he couldn't think that. James had made Elly very happy while they were together. And he couldn't hold onto his hatred for long.

There, she was talking again and he'd missed it. "I'm sorry. I wasn't paying attention; I do that a lot lately. What was that?"

"He left her some things."

"Did he?"

Filly's pale features twisted as she struggled to hold back fresh tears. "Yes. He taped himself, talking to her. And letters. He willed a lot of stuff to her if she comes back, but..."

"You know she can't."

"Yeah." Her shoulders slumped. "This is all so shitty, isn't it?" Without waiting for him to answer she pointed backwards at the box she had brought in. "They're in there. I know people that bring supplies into the villages there come by. You could give them to someone or something. I can't go. I'm always watched, for one thing."

"All right."

"Thank you."

He hesitated. "I'm not going to get into trouble for this, am I?" When she frowned he held up a hand. "I don't give a shit, I'll still do it. I just want to know."

"No, I don't think so." She sighed and pushed a wayward strand of her long hair behind her ear with one hand. "They know where I am and what I'm doing. I can't hide anything anymore, but this..." She sighed again. "He wanted it," she said lamely again as if that explained everything. Mark realized it might at that. He nodded.

"Don't worry. I'll make sure it gets to her when the passes are clear of snow."


	42. Spring Thaws

Camen poked his head out the odd window he had in his door and sniffed the air. Elly hadn't asked but she'd always wondered why it was the heavy entrance had an unlock-able window pane in it. The reason was obvious now that the spring thaws were here; everything outside was heavy and wet. If he opened the door they'd be overwhelmed with slush. He absently wondered if Tiduu had tried to go outside early again - he made a mess of his cabin nearly every spring with his impatience. The lean hunter smiled.

Nearly time now, he mused. The snow piled up by their front door was half gone but there was so much of it he stayed inside now more than when it was cold and solid. His snow tunnels were collapsed and he was forced to wait like every year. The big man sighed disconsolately and folded his arms across his chest.

"I hate waiting," he blurted finally in exasperation. "I can't wait to have some fresh vegetables and meat and be able to walk on solid ground again." He huffed and turned to find Elly standing right next to him.

"Getting tired of my company?" She joked.

"It's the hitting I can't stand any more of - ow! Quit! I didn't mean it. I love when you punch me in the gut."

"Ha ha."

"Now I know what I was missing all those years."

"What?"

He flashed her a lopsided grin. "You heard me. I never spent the winter with a girl before."

"But you said everyone did it!" Elly's eyes narrowed with disbelief. Little hectic spots of color had flared up on her cheeks.

"Kinda. I made sure everyone paired off so I wouldn't have to." He winced, ready for the outburst but none came.

"You lied to me!"

"I didn't." Camen cracked an eyelid, carefully peeking at her when she didn't strike out at him. "I never said I did. Are you mad at me?"

"I'm not mad!" She actually stamped her foot and he covered his mouth with one hand to hide a smile. Then a thought came to him and he realized why he felt so pleased with himself.

"Tell me you were jealous." His gray eyes widened. "Oh, please, that would make everything worthwhile."

"I am not!"

"Now now, but you were!"

"Was not!"

"Was too." He raised an eyebrow. "I can keep this up all day, you know," he added mildly. "Just admit it and then we can get to the part where I ask why you were amazed."

Elly brushed his implication aside. "You slept with enough of them! Yes, I heard," she added scathingly when he blushed. "I spent only a few nights at Auntie's 'Girl Circle' before winter hit but it was enough. Women love to gossip."

"I never hid any of that." He shifted uncomfortably, sensing this was a sore point with her. "The sex didn't mean anything." He was about to say more but saw her expression and choked on the rest. "Hey, no! That sounded better in my head. Wait."

"I'm listening," she said dangerously. Camen groaned and sank down in the nearest available chair, a plain wooden one pulled aside from the kitchen table. He set his hands down on the polished surface in front of him and looked at them for several moments. Elly grunted, shifting her weight about so she could also sit.

His fingers drummed restlessly. "This will probably sound bad no matter how I say it. I didn't take things like that seriously. It was play, more like practice than anything else."

"That's ridiculous!"

"Is it?" He lifted his head, his gaze piercing but directed only at the empty air in front of him. "I made mistakes in the past as much as you did. I'm allowed, right?"

Elly blinked. His sudden change of temperament had thrown her off-balance. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Then I could be another," she whispered, and then bit her lip. _Why had she said that?_

"No." Camen shook his head gruffly. So she was jealous because she cared and had almost admitted it to herself before he'd gone and screwed it up. It was one step in the right direction and then another back again.

"No?" She heard the scraping of his chair as he pushed it back and moments later his arms were draped about her shoulders.

"I said no. You're different." He brushed her hair away from her neck and bent down low, settling his cheek against hers. "I took you into my home. Don't be jealous, all right? All I was trying to say is I didn't love them." He lightly stressed the word.

Elly bit her lip a little harder. "Hm."

"I know you haven't had such good luck with people that care about you. But we've been together the whole winter ...and I'd like you to stay with me when the thaw's over." She glanced sharply at him and he nodded.

"I'll be honest with you," she said finally. "I - I always got along better with men, my best friend was a guy. And I don't mind having you around all the time."

"Flatterer," he murmured.

"Quit." She whapped him on the nose and he wrinkled it in protest. "I'm trying to think. Auntie would take me in if I asked, right?" Camen nodded gravely and she took a deep breath. "I think I'd ...miss you, though."

"Would you? I'd still be around. I just wouldn't be in the same house, you know."

"I've gotten used to someone treating me the way you do." His arms tightened around her and she nodded. "That, for instance. It helps, sometimes."

"Hugs are wonderful medicine."

"Umm," she replied sleepily. His warmth and the safe feeling she always got when he held her was making her drowsy.

"You'll stay with me then?"

"Nmm hmm."

"All right," he said softly. "That's settled."

"I can't tell you anything you might want to hear, Camen."

"Well, now." He spoke bravely but she knew he'd been hurt when she heard him force a weak laugh. It sounded false somehow; nothing like his usual chuckle. "What I really want to hear is when lunch is going to be ready. Can I help?"

"All right." Elly sighed and yawned. "I'm totally taking a nap afterward. I don't care if it's going to give me heartburn." She missed the big man's wry look when she spoke. He helped her up and started setting the table as she rummaged wearily around for the foodstuff he'd brought from the cellar earlier. Lunch was good. Meals would get better when everything thawed out and they could get fresh things again. And Camen desperately hoped more things would thaw as well along the way.


	43. Camen's Breakdown

She woke with her pillow damp and tears still trickling from her eyes. She struggled to avoid crying out but the grief she felt at the moment was so intense it startled her into a soft wail. Elly used to dream about James often when she first came here. For the last few weeks the dreams had tapered off and she thought they would end at last. This one, however, had been the most poignant of them all. The father of the child that still rested peacefully in her belly had been holding her, his smile warm with love. Everything had been hazy around them but she could see James with perfect clarity - his shining blue hair, the gentle look in his sapphire eyes.

"You'll always be in my life, even if I'm not in yours."

His voice, his dear sweet voice cut her like a knife. What was she doing with Camen? How could she? The guilt was fierce and try as she might she couldn't stifle it. The questions bubbled up like wicked little pockets that lay there, unnoticed, until they burst in a fresh torrent of misery and she cried again. Was she so cold that she would throw away everything they had in the past so quickly? Why was she so completely taken in when he kissed her, and why had she let him kiss her in the first place? It was all too much. She muffled her moans into her pillow but of course it wasn't enough. The big man she was living with was a hunter and trained to hear the tiniest sounds. There were scuffling sounds as he cast about in the darkness for a match and lit the oil lamp he kept close by.

"Elly?"

"M'kay, I'm okay," she panted in agitation.

"You don't sound all right." Shadows played about him as he set the lamp next to her bed and leaned close. The scar under his left eye and his scruffy-haired face gave him such a rough look compared to her gentle memory of her past lover that she recoiled slightly. A look of incredulity passed over his features and then he turned his head. His ponytail flicked back over his shoulder as he did and he tugged it to make sure it wasn't near the flame.

"Bad dream. S- sorry."

"Don't be," he said gruffly. "S'alright. You want me to leave the light?" She shook her head and he immediately blew it out and walked unerringly back to his own bed. She lay there thinking of James and the tears he had cried as he held her about the knees the last time they had seen each other. She could remember it so well that she actually heard the soft whisper of it in the silence of the night.

Camriel Couslan wrestled with the unfamiliar emotions within him.

Jealousy was not in his makeup. Anger, yes, and sinful pride too, he admitted that without reservation. But this crushing sense of defeat by a man he had never met was tormenting him. He didn't blame Elly, of course, but last night he'd been terribly hurt when she flinched away from him. He had hoped... but no, of course she didn't feel that way about him. She'd told him herself many times that she was confused and didn't want to be alone but had never encouraged him in the belief that she felt "that way" towards him.

The strong man had choked into his own pillow for a brief moment of unbelievable weakness after she had unwittingly rejected his comfort. He hadn't cried since he was five and his parents had been killed. To have the hot tears break free, however briefly, had covered him in a shameful kind of reverie that lasted all the next day. He didn't try and joke or be playful but sat off to the side instead, his gaze never actually on her. They spoke but little and though Elly seemed puzzled by his silence after a few tentative tries at conversation she left him alone.

All right.

So if he wanted to be an asshole, he'd mark the aristocrat "his enemy" and embark upon a battle plan of elimination. But there wasn't a need for that as James was effectively out of her life forever. The problem was she'd responded to him with an honest touch and kiss at least twice now. He'd felt willingness in her body and had to forcibly stop himself from going further both times.

_You're fooling yourself!_

Maybe so. But maybe she was guilty because she felt something more than friendship for him. And so he thought about this and thought about it all day until his forehead was lined with care. As he sat down in front of the crackling fire he finally sighed and turned to Elly who was in her usual spot on the other side of the small couch.

"I'm going to say something, and I want you to really hear me this time," he said as calmly as he could manage.

"A- all right?"

"I love you. I think I did from the first time I saw you, fake as that sounds. You fell into my arms that day and I don't think I let go."

She bit her lower lip and looked down but he waited patiently until she met his gaze again before going on.

"I didn't realize it at first," he mused, almost to himself. "But I'm telling you because I'm certain now. I don't know if it means anything to you but it doesn't matter. I'll love you anyway. If that means stepping back or letting you go I'll do it. If it means sticking with you and being your little one's daddy, I'll do it."

She choked back a sob and tears started to trickle down her cheeks. He wiped them away with his thumbs and went on.

"I won't tell you what you need. You have to decide, but please, for my sanity, do it soon. I'm as patient as I can be but my heart has limits like everyone else, you know. You said we could live together. Doesn't that mean anything?"

"Yes, of course it does!"

"What about last night then," he asked softly.

"Camen, last night..."

"Yes?" He kept his tone neutral with an effort, though his face was suddenly burning with embarrassment.

"My dream was so real." She gave him a strange look. "I could even hear him. It was like he was in the room with me, crying." Camen was forced into silence again. He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again but no sound came out. Elly noticed this and tilted her head to one side.

"Camen?" She sniffled and wiped her cheeks. " _Camriel_ ," she said firmly when his eyes wouldn't focus. "What the hell's wrong with you?"

"Damn it!" He scrambled to his feet quickly, his voice harsh. He spun around and spoke in an undertone that she nonetheless heard clearly. "I've lost my fucking mind, I really have."

"Are you all right?" She sounded afraid and he swore at himself.

"No, don't you get it? I - I love you and you love someone else. Even when I tell you what you mean to me you talk about him instead." His broad shoulders slumped as he turned around again and sank to his knees on the floor. "And last night you showed me what you really think of me." His tone was guttural, strange.

"What?" Tears were starting to burn her eyes again, why she didn't know but she swallowed and squeezed her eyes shut. "Camen, what are you talking about? You sound different..." Her hand came up to rub her temples.

" _I'm trying not to bawl like some weak little kid!_ "

Her lavender eyes widened all at once and he flinched back this time.

_Oh, shit!_

He crumpled to the floor as soon as he realized his blunder. Camen flopped forward with a groan, pressing his forehead to the rough woven carpet that rested under the coffee table. All this time, all this way and he was screwing everything up. His hands gripped the back of his head as he railed at himself. He roughly tore out his ponytail, causing his white hair to spill down over his face further concealing his shame and remorse.

"Shit," he gasped weakly. "Oh shit, I'm so stupid." And that's when he felt a tentative touch on the back of his head. He held his breath while she weaved her fingers through his hair in a comforting way.

"Get up, stupid," Elly said gently.

"...huh?" He pulled himself up and stared at her, his hair in disarray and his cheeks burning. The plain linen shirt he wore was open at the front, the rawhide thongs that tied to close it pulled loosely on the sides of the wide v-neck. She reached out and slipped her arms around his thick neck, pulling his face to her chest. Camen sighed shakily and closed his eyes as she held him. "I didn't ruin our friendship with that asinine display, did I?"

"I'm not even sure that's exactly what we have yet, but no. You didn't."

"I feel like a fool." He pulled away and shook his head.

"Camen."

"A complete idiot," he repeated wryly. "I mean, what the hell am I doing dumping anything on you. I know you're still going through a tough time, and ..."

"Camen." Her hands gripped his shaggy sideburns and tugged, pulling his face up to hers again. "Kiss me. Now."

"What?" He stared at her dumbly.

"Please, just do it. I - I can't."

"Sure?" His hands came up to cover hers. "Why do you -"

"Please," she said in a voice near to tears. He lifted his chin and pressed his mouth firmly against hers, holding them together for a moment and then slipping away again. "Tell me you love me," she whispered brokenly.

"Elly," Camen choked as his face flamed up again. His face twisted but instead of crying he broke into a soft and rueful laugh. "Anything. I'll do anything for you. I love you."

She clung to him, her body shaking but not crying. "Keep telling me that. I need it. I'm so scared and I need you and everyone I need leaves me..."

"No," he sighed, "not me. You're stuck with me."


	44. Dancing

Elly sat pensively on the couch. She rested close to a side table where she could put the little armful of wool she had been trying to knit into a pair of booties when she was tired. The young woman was around three months pregnant and quite large already. Her purple hair was bound in a piece of scrap cloth because it took awhile for the longer length to dry, especially without a hairdryer. She was wrapped tightly up in a dark brown quilt Camen had informed her Auntie had given him some time ago. The light of the fireplace cast jittery shadows about the room and she watched them blankly, her mind not focusing on much. She was trying to imagine what James would think if he knew she was being wooed by another man. Anger flashed up as she thought that, as the head of the Colorford family, he would have to marry. Being single was a luxury he could not afford and she was suddenly, irrationally jealous of the other woman that most likely didn't exist yet in his life. Besides, it wasn't as if she didn't have someone as well...

"Are you all right over there?" Camen looked over from where he was sitting at a table near the boarded windows along the front of that large main room. Elly didn't even hear him when he spoke. She was starting to work herself up into tears when the couch bounced lightly.

"You put your knitting away?" He glanced at the side table and then back to her pale face. "It's boring, isn't it. I knew it."

"Eh."

"Wow. That bad." He sighed and placed his other arm across her rounded belly affectionately. "You wanna listen to some music or something?"

"Music?" That got her attention. Camen smiled as she seemed to shake off some of the funk she'd been in. "You never told me you had anything. It won't... won't it not work? You can't plug anything in here."

"Batteries, my dear," he chuckled as he leaped to his feet. "I have a few stockpiled. We can't get any stations under all this snow, you're right..." His voice trailed off as he walked into the back room but emerged only a moment later with a small CD player. "...but I do have some music. Wanna dance?"

"Dance? I suck at dancing."

"Ridiculous," he scoffed, eyes alight. "You know me once I have an idea in my head. C'mon, c'mon... _please?_ "

She sighed, the trace of a smile touching her lips. "All right, but I'm all fat and awkward. Not that I was a good dancer to begin with." She suffered him to help her to her feet. Camen looked around then set a thick-soled boot firmly on the coffee table, pushing it out of the way.

"There," he said cheerfully.

"Where," she murmured as he wrapped his arms carefully around her, palms resting on her upper back. "It's not like I can mambo or anything..."

He snickered. "I'm not asking you to. Here, almost forgot." He flicked the button on the CD player and a soft romantic melody filled the cabin. Elly blew air out her nose in a big puff.

"Should have known."

"Anyone can slow dance," he murmured into her hair after embracing her once more. "Even big fat pregnant ladies ...oof!" He pretended the blow she struck his back hurt more than it did.

"Arrrgh." She buried her head in his chest. "Just be serious for a little while." Camen nuzzled her hair affectionately. The music wafted over them, something she hadn't realized she'd missed so much. She slowly relaxed against his big body while they moved back and forth.

"I can do serious," he said. "You're beautiful and I love you." He slipped his hand between them and lifted her chin up to face his laughing gray eyes. She frowned slightly, thinking from the expression he would tease her again but his smile slipped off as he stared at her. They stopped moving and he raised his other hand to cup her cheeks in both palms.

"I'm tired of hurting," she said wistfully. "And there's this big handsome idiot that says he loves me."

"Nice. I'll accept idiot gracefully, but are you sure about the handsome part?" She stuck her tongue out at him and he darted forward and caught it between his lips, using her startled gasp to gently infiltrate her mouth. The kiss went on for some time until he broke it rather regretfully. "That's probably enough of that. You sort of make me want to lose control."

"Even now," she marveled.

"What? Are you different?"

"I'm pregnant! And it's not yours, Camen. You really don't mind, do you."

"Of course not." He paused slightly. "I'm jealous. Don't get me wrong, I'm very jealous that another man took you to his bed. But this is all you, parts of you. The baby will be a part of you too. Why should I care if your tummy's a little big now?"

"A little," she scoffed.

"All right, sheesh. A lot. You happy now? You're a big ol' pregnant cow and I love you. What do you say to that?"

"Moo."

Camen collapsed in helpless laughter.


	45. Mean Spirited Gossip

Spring thaws had melted away most of the slow weeks ago but it was only recently that the ground had firmed up enough for regular travel again. Camen and his group went out hunting every dawn and Elly started seeing Sue Gatterling again for checkups as well as meeting in Auntie's cozy home to sew shirts, blankets and things for the community. Most of the unmarried ladies in town went to that meeting for chatting and to help out. They usually left the little club after marriage when they had other jobs to do at their own home but until then it was the only time she saw other women her age. This was not necessarily a good thing.

One evening she sat on the couch after dinner, worried and more than a little uncertain. She stared blankly at the wall for several minutes until she got the nerve up to speak.

"Camen?"

"Hmm?" He looked up from where he was twisting the gut to attach the feathers on his arrows. Not really as messy as it sounded, he preferred it instead of the twine some others did because he liked to use as much of his kills as possible.

"Did you really say ...no. Never mind." She glanced down at her hands, slowly raised them to her face to rub fiercely at her eyes.

Camen instantly dropped what he was doing and walked over. He gently grasped her wrists in his hands and held them away. "Look at me," he said firmly.

"Stop it."

" _Elly, look at me_ ," he commanded firmly in such a tone that she blinked and did just that.

"You heard some of the gossip flying around. From the girls, right?"

"Wh - what?"

"Don't try and deny it," he grunted. "I hear some myself when I'm out there in the woods with the guys. They ask me a million different things. Now that everyone can talk freely again, it's getting worse."

"A million things?" She'd stopped crying almost as soon as she'd started. Camen handed her a handkerchief and waited until she'd cleaned up to go on.

"Yeah. That we're getting married," he started checking them off on his long fingers, "you're treating me like crap, I'm treating you like crap, that we had sex all winter or I'm tired of you because you won't 'put out'..." He stopped when she winced at that one.

"Was that it?"

"All right, geez." She bit her lip, wrenching one hand away from his so she could tuck a strand of hair behind one ear. He reached out and touched her cheek. "That's what one of the girls said her man heard you saying. She said she wanted to warn me."

"Ah, shit - which one?" His gray eyes burned with sudden anger. "Those damned b -" She stared at him and he checked his anger at the last minute, snarling "wenches," instead, a little lamely.

"I'm not good with their names yet," she shrugged. "But they - a lot of them -- they believe it's true, Camen."

"Yeah, but how could you? You've been so much better lately. Don't let them ruin things." He shook his head. Elly's brows drew down and he reached up to smooth the furrows in her forehead with a shaky hand. Her tone was mild, but he knew the danger signs by now and moved quickly to fend off the approaching storm. He tilted her head back and kissed her on the mouth. Startled, she didn't resist and was even more surprised by the vehemence of his lips on hers. He pressed forward hard, almost bruisingly as his arms slipped around her to hold her tight. When he broke the kiss she raised an eyebrow.

"It's not true."

"Of course it's not! Damn it," he panted, "if I was going to leave you I'd have called it quits the first day you slapped the shit out of me." His chest heaved, eyes still hot. "Those girls are getting worse every day," he snarled, his teeth clenched.

Elly was very fond of him when he was protective but she was confused this time. "But ... but the girls?"

"They're all jealous little twits," he said, choking down the anger that was causing her some alarm. "You remember what I said before about not spending the winter with anyone? I never promised any girl here anything, El. Ever. You sort of came along out of nowhere and some of the girls are gonna be pissed. So I'm telling you now, if more shit like this flies around in town - if it it's directed at making me look bad it probably isn't true."

"Hnn."

"I'm serious. The guys will do anything to get on their good side and they'll use them like mad in this case. If anyone says anything to you about me, ask me, all right? I won't lie to you. If you want to know something, ask. Then you'll know whether or not I deserve a punch in the gut."


	46. Object Lessons

Camen prudently avoided discussing what he had heard all day about her, knowing it would only make things worse. It was all designed to do just that, obviously, injure her and tear them apart so that someone else "more deserving" (in the village) could have him. Well, he was going to make certain that everyone understood there was no one more deserving to him than this poor, wounded pregnant girl he'd chosen.

He set his jaw stubbornly as she sighed and leaned against his chest. There were going to be a lot of object lessons tomorrow morning in the woods.

Early morning sunlight streamed through the trees in the forest, golden beams sparkling with small insects and the darker shadows of birds. It was peaceful here, and a place of renewal for Camen as he breathed the mountain air in before the hunting began. Today, however, he had to address the men that followed him. His eyes narrowed dangerously as he prepared himself, listening to the rumbles as they talked amongst themselves. He rolled his shoulders back, walked to the center of the group of hunters and stood there for a long time until all the muttering stopped.

"I see we've forgotten how to behave in the woods," he said acidly when it was quiet again. "You're not supposed to chatter like a flock of birds or old ladies."

His best friend was among them that day and he was the first to speak. "Sometimes guys gossip worse than old ladies."

"Bullshit," someone called out.

Young Tiduu flicked his golden hair out of his eyes with a sour laugh. "I think you've got some re-training to do, boss." Several of the other hunters glared openly at him when he spoke but he shrugged and set a hand on his bow.

"I think I might." Camen set his hands to the thick leather jerkin he wore and casually pulled it off, revealing his thick-muscled and heavily scarred upper torso. He set his bow aside and took his knife out of the sheathe at his hip. "Now," he said firmly, fingering the edge of the blade, "who has a problem with me?"

Not surprisingly it was Justin that stepped forward first. The solidly built man had hit on Elly when she'd first arrived and had gotten nothing but harsh words and a fork in the back of his hand from her. He'd harbored a dislike for the girl since then and he didn't like seeing Camen that happy with her, either. For one, after the white man had left Belle she'd refused to go out with Justin afterward. He'd always thought the haughty dark-haired girl would run to him as soon as Camen was out of the picture but the fact that she wouldn't really burned. And as human nature would have it, he saw his white-haired leader as the man that started all his problems.

"You're going soft on us." He met Camen's gaze directly, not flinching when the big man frowned angrily.

"Let's get everything out in the open right now," Camen said gruffly. "Who's been telling crap stories about Elly behind her - and my -- back? That's what all this shit is about, isn't it?"

Some others rumbled assent. "They're making our lives miserable," a stout older man in his thirties grumbled. "My wife hears all this talk and then all she can carp about is 'that little slut' taking away a good man from the women in town."

Camen's face had turned almost purple. "Carla?" He gasped, struggling to keep a lid on his anger. "I thought your wife liked me!"

"She does, damn it!" He pressed forward. "She doesn't like that girl you've shacked up with, that's all. And they're all making us suffer because we're with you so much."

"What's so special about her, anyway?" Justin growled. "She got knocked up by a wealthy asshole and then ran away from it all. She could have stayed in town. They take care of their mistresses."

Camen hissed as the knife slipped and nicked his finger. He pointed the blade directly at Justin. "She was not somebody's plaything like that," he asserted. "No one here except me and maybe Auntie knows the whole story, right, so why don't you tell them that next time they start exaggerating."

"Why don't you tell us the truth, Camen?" The purple-haired hunter stepped up once more. A few others were close by Justin's side as he spoke. "Why're you with her? Is she just so good at what she does that you stay even though she doesn't seem to give a shit about you?"

"Is sex better with a pregnant chick?" One of his cohorts snickered.

"That's it." Camen waved the others aside. "Both of you - wait, what, one more? You wanna talk trash about my girl too?" A nasty remark that he could barely believe was snapped back and he nodded. "No one talks like that about her. Everyone got it? ...well, except you three. You'll understand in a couple minutes."

"Uh, Camen?" Tiduu spoke up nervously. "You wanna second or something?"

"What?" He spat derisively. "Not for a job this small."

An hour later a limping party of hunters were led into Susan's house for repair. Justin was bringing up the far rear, barely managing to drag himself along and dribbling blood down the street as he went. He had slashes in his upper torso and a deep gash in one leg that was bleeding thickly through his leather pants.

"What happened?" One of the women gasped as he wearily opened the door. She took Justin by the hand and led him inside where the other two were being patched up.

"We got attacked by a wolf," one muttered.

"A big, stupid white wolf," Justin said half under his breath.


	47. Patching Him Up

No one suspected that the attacks on Elly and Camen had come from a single source. Belle Istoult was the local social lioness and she had access to many different ways to bring someone she considered her enemy down. Since the hints and carefully planted rumors hadn't worked she began another plan of attack. Fueled by a jealous rage, she was convinced that she had been slighted and very determined that she see the other girl humiliated or hurt somehow. Her father was record-keeper in town and she knew she could sneak in and check her reasons for coming here, but she shied away from that just yet. Reading someone's account was a serious offense at the White Village and she had heard her father tell stories about how people had been cast out because of it. You were supposed to get a clean slate when you came here - as long as you told the truth about why you'd left civilization. Many of the people that wandered in had shady pasts or horrible tragedies they didn't want people to know about. Belle's fingers twitched every time she walked by the records room. It was almost unbearable.

There was a knock at the door and she swung by on her way to the kitchen to answer it.

"Oh, Justin," she said distantly when she saw the purple man's hopeful face.

"I just thought I'd stop by, see what you were doing today."

"I'm really busy." She tried to close the door but he stuck a boot in quickly, then winced as she only pushed harder.

"Ow, damn it!"

"I told you I'm busy." Belle tossed her head, causing her black hair to bounce about her shoulders. As she did she glanced sideways at a mirror hanging on the wall and smiled. As always, just the right amount of volume and shine. She was very proud of her hair and believed - along with most of the other girls, to their dismay -- that she had the most gorgeous in town.

"I thought you'd want to know that Camen beat the crap out of me because I told him what I thought of that whore he's living with."

Belle's nose first wrinkled at the mention of her former beau's name, then twisted with fury as she heard the rest. "Get in," she spat at him.

"I thought you were -"

"Get the hell in."

Down the road a ways at Camen's home, Elly glanced up when she heard the faint creak of the door but no click of it closing. She was mending one of the big man's shirts, humming softly to herself as she relaxed on the couch and was not prepared for what she saw. He was not entirely covered in blood but he came close. His slippery hand gripped the door frame as he stood there, panting hard and unable to move another step for the moment. She realized with horror a cut on his arm was bleeding so much it was about to start seeping through the rudimentary bandage he'd made of the remains of his shirt.

"It's okay," he gasped before she could say anything. "I'm all right. Can't go to the doctor." He swallowed, then coughed. "Just got to get cleaned up here." He waved off her offer of assistance when she would have helped him, staggering into the room on his own power.

"But there's so much blood," she said in a small voice.

"It's not all mine," he assured her quickly. She moved as fast as she could into the bathroom and he heard her using the hand pump to fill the sink with water. By the time he'd made it she'd dragged a chair up for her to sit on and dumped a pile of towels on the floor.

"Sit," she said shortly, pointing at the tub. He nodded and sank down gratefully, shoving his unkempt hair back with his good hand. His hair had gotten yanked out of the braiding he'd done earlier and some of it was streaked with red as well.

"I couldn't go to the doctor," he repeated, tossing what remained of the tunic he'd worn that morning indifferently aside. "I - well, they can't know how bad I got hurt."

"What were you doing?!"

"Fixing things," he said with a satisfied smirk. Then he winced as she squeezed the towel hard about his arm. "Ow."

"It's not stopping, Camen," she fretted, her face pale as she watched the red blooms spreading across the faded cloth. "Shouldn't you...?"

"Under the sink, there's a box with stuff in it." He pointed with his good arm. "I'm afraid you'll have to sew something else of mine up today."

Elly paled further when she saw clean thread and a hooked needle inside the wooden box. "You're not serious."

"Sue's got enough trouble, and it's not that hard. I'd do it myself but it's ....um. The wrong arm." He demonstrated by flapping his left arm at his right. "I can't reach."

"All right, turn this way then. I can't bend with this gut in the way..."

It was moderately gruesome but not all that bad. Camen simply sat there, seemingly unperturbed as she dug the needle in and pulled the stitching tight. She just grit her teeth and was rewarded in the end with the blood flow cutting off as the neatly-sewn stitches sealed the gash. Camen sighed and gingerly flexed the muscles in the arm.

"Good job," he murmured. "They'll hold for as long as they need to." He raised an eyebrow as she began dipping the towel in the basin, rinsing out the blood. "I can get tha-"

"No, you can't." She wrung it out and turned back to him as he sat hunched over the edge of the bath tub. "Where else?"

He watched her for a bit, standing there with strands of purple hair falling out of a hastily pulled-back ponytail to tickle her flushed cheeks. Her pregnant belly was large and she had to move with care in the small room. Wordlessly he pointed to his chest and neck where smaller cuts and abrasions lashed his skin. She sat down on the kitchen chair she'd got earlier and dabbed gently at his face, holding the cool cloth over a dark bruise on his jawline. He closed his eyes and let her meticulously search his tired body as far as his chest. There were bruises, a nasty-looking bite and more cuts and slashes, but nothing as serious as that one knife wound had been. His legs hurt but he hesitated to tell her that. Elly took hold of his face in one small hand and stared into his startled gray eyes.

"What..."

"Bathe," she said firmly. "And let me know if you neglected to mention any cuts or anything anywhere else when you do."

"Yes, dear," he agreed. She flipped the towel at him and waddled out. "It should be better after this," he called out as she left. Elly paused in the doorway.

"Was it worth it?"

"Yes," he said without a moment's hesitation. "Trust me."


End file.
